


All Our Yesterdays

by Escalus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Future Fic, Hiding Medical Issues, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, References to Depression, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-23 06:16:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 42,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14326374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escalus/pseuds/Escalus
Summary: Fifteen years after the end of the series, Scott McCall is working as a veterinarian in Beacon Hills just like he wanted, but his mother and his friends are still worried for him.  The  toll of endless war weighs heavily upon him; he's not miserable, but all the people who care about him can see that he's not happy.  A new crisis brings a chance for Scott to throw off the yoke of his past but that means dealing once more with Theo Raeken.





	1. Chapter 1

_Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,_  
_Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,_  
_To the last syllable of recorded time;_  
_And all our yesterdays have lighted fools_  
_The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!_

**_Macbeth_ , Act V, scene v.**

 

The sense of smell is an amazing thing. Invisible molecules float through the air; these molecules are inhaled and land on array of receptors and they send signals to the brain. It’s random and complex, and it is even more complex when it is taken into account that there are millions of combinations that produce a thousand separate sensations in every breath a living thing takes. 

Humans may not rely as much or as often on the sense of smell as they do on sight and hearing, but they still use it every moment of every day. Of all the senses, it is the most closely connected to emotional memory. A human can recognize trillions of individual smells and associate them with pain, with comfort, with sadness, with all the best and worst parts of everyday life. 

How much more important must all this be for a werewolf? Their sense of smell averages one hundred times greater than any human’s. One of the first things that a bitten wolf has to learn is how to focus on and separate the incredible variety of smells by which they are assaulted.

Nature has an answer for this, as nature has an answer for everything. Olfactory adaptation simply means that after a particular odor has triggered receptors often enough in a certain period of time, the brain stops registering its presence. It’s why a human often can’t tell that they had bad breath. It is why a werewolf isn’t be constantly overwhelmed by the emotions that flood around them when dealing with crowds of people. 

In other words, in order to cope, the brain stops paying attention to things that are unnecessary.

Scott put Belle back into her cage. She was a friendly, declawed Russian Blue. She had been named after the heroine of a Disney movie; he made it a point to try to learn all the animal’s names. It had paid off. He had learned to recognize most of his regular customers, and their owners were reassured by a veterinarian who bothered to treat their pets as individuals. Belle was suffering from an infection due to an accident that the owner hadn’t noticed; she’d be good as new in a few days.

Unlike Alan, Scott never talked to the animals. He was a lot more comfortable working with them on an instinctual level – exerting dominance on the dogs or suppressing his own nature when it came to those who would be more sensitive. It had been hard work over the years to learn exactly how to do that; he still had trouble submerging himself into the instinctual. Derek had been very helpful in helping him learn; Scott still insisted that they spend time together training out in the Preserve, sharpening his senses and learning everything that Derek could teach him. Derek sometimes complained that he didn’t have anything left to teach Scott, and Scott would always accuse him of holding out on him, though these days it was done with a smile and maybe a playful tussle. 

The truth was he liked spending time with Derek. 

He checked his schedule. He didn’t have another appointment until two, and he had already cleaned out the cat cages. Alan always insisted that they could hire some teenager to do menial tasks like that, but Scott liked doing it. It reminded him of simpler days.

“Doc, if it’s okay, with you, I’m going to head to the hospital.”

Alan stepped out of the back room. Deaton hadn’t changed much over the years, but when he smiled Scott clearly saw new lines piling up in the corners of his eyes and around the sides of his mouth. “Scott, you forgot again.”

“Huh?” Scott paused as he filed Belle’s paperwork. He tried to think of what he had forgotten.

“You’re my partner, not my employee. You don’t have to ask permission to take a lunch break.” The older man was obviously amused. 

“Oh. I’m sorry. It’s habit I guess. Can I bring you something?” Scott always felt embarrassed when, every now and then, he’d treat Alan as if he were still his boss. Hanging up his white coat, he pulled on his jacket. 

“Thinking about the past?” Alan walked up to the counter and leaned on it with both hands. 

Scott paused even though it was a relatively innocent question. “It’s … not really.” He felt around his jacket for his car keys. 

The older veterinarian watched him with a knowing look. “The past can be very comforting, Scott. There’s nothing shameful about cherishing parts of it.”

“Only some parts.” Scott smiled weakly. 

“Only some parts.” Deaton thought for a moment. “I think I’ll go out today for lunch myself. Our next client is usually late, anyways.”

Scott waved as he left the clinic. The sun was shining but there was still a strong wind blowing through the town swooping toward the preserve. It wouldn’t bother him, but the rest of Northern California was steadily coming to grips with the arrival of fall.

He slid into his car, a forest-green Prius that he had bought when he turned thirty. It was a responsible car, it got good gas mileage, and it had a lot of trunk room when he had to haul unexpected things like extra groceries or a dead body. He glanced down at the several weeks’ worth of mail in the passenger’s seat. 

He should really stop getting the mail in the morning on his way to work. He would glance at it and then toss it into the passenger seat. If he ever wanted someone to ride with him, he’d have to find a place to shove them. 

The hospital really wasn’t that far away; he easily could have walked if he had wanted to. Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital hadn’t changed much since its last remodel in the wake of his high school career. It had survived that turmoil and even got a facelift from the insurance money. It had settled into stable complacency, as it had been over a decade since the last animal attack had come through its doors. Every time Scott put his hand on the door handles of the non-emergency entrance, he was reminded of the hard-won peace. It wasn’t much of a success, but it was better than nothing.

The receptionist at the desk smiled at him. If she hadn’t known him through his mother who was Chief of Nursing, she’d still have known him because, once a week for the last four years, he had come to eat lunch with one of the doctors He even knew her name: Janet. He knew her scent as well, but he would never have told her that.

“Dr. McCall,” Janet smiled at him. “Dr. Holloway’s had an unscheduled surgery this morning. He should be out soon, but he asked you to go to his office and …” She peered at the note. “Order something good, and not your usual slop.”

Scott laughed. It was a running argument between him and Nolan. Like many arguments between friends, it had evolved into a habit without heat. Nolan mocked the restaurants that Scott relished, and Scott pretended to find the places Nolan liked to eat as fit only for pretentious hipsters. Scott easily admitted that he liked the junky Americana food – burgers and fries, fried chicken, pizza, pseudo-Mexican – from the local mom-and-pop restaurants. Nolan, on the other hand, was always trying something new from the boutique restaurants that popped up periodically downtown. 

Scott knew the way to Nolan’s office. Unlike most of the other surgeon’s offices, his was located on the top floor; it was a converted supply room. Melissa had arranged it for him, as there was a certain part of the hospital that Nolan avoided as much as he could. Some things, no matter how far in the past, would never fade. Scott was glad that when those things did fade they were often replaced with better things.

Like having lunch once a week with an old friend who didn’t used to be a friend.

Scott found the office door cracked open. Beacon Hills was still small enough that leaving your door unlocked wasn’t a request to be robbed. Inside, he found the stack of menus of the places that Nolan liked. Scott didn’t keep menus, because you didn’t need to remember how to pronounce the things that were ordered at those places. 

He shifted through them trying to find one that he could tolerate. Macrobiotic take-out menu. Thai take-out menu. Organic Thai take-out menu. Sushi take-out menu. He studied that last one for a moment, but he had no intention of ordering from it. He closed his eyes and put it back down on the table before returning to sifting the pile. Russian take-out menu. Vegetarian take-out menu. Paleo take-out menu. Scott had never eaten whatever that last one was before. It would be nice to try something new.

He placed what he hoped was a good order and sat down to wait. Nolan would have cancelled the lunch if he planned to be too much longer. Scott took out his phone and read some of the novel he had picked up the other day. 

“Sorry!” chirped Nolan as he came through the door about twenty minutes later, pulling the surgical cap off his head where he had left it on. “Someone decided to make my day exciting by suffering a burst aneurysm.”

“I hope they’re okay.” Scott stood up.

Nolan looked lightly aggrieved. “Of course they’re okay. I’m the best surgeon in this hospital. Dr. Geyer can suck it.” He winked and gave Scott’s shoulder a light squeeze. It lasted a hair too long to be completely innocent; Nolan flirted with anything with a pulse, no matter what species they were. Scott was flattered and he wasn’t completely disinterested. Nolan have become even more attractive with age. His piercing blue eyes were now behind wire-rim glasses; it made him look far more mature. His easy and sometimes blustery confidence also made him a pleasure to be around. Scott hadn’t taken him up on the offer, for some reason that wasn’t even clear to him.

Scott rolled his eyes. “It’s not a competition.”

“Everything is a competition, alpha.” Nolan used the title, even though he wasn’t a werewolf, because he knew it made Scott wince when he used it in public. “What’d you order for us?” 

Scott held up the menu for the paleo restaurant. 

“Oh,” Nolan’s face fell for a moment. “I should have tossed that. You didn’t spend too much money, did you? The place is terrible. So terrible, I’ll pay for it _and_ treat you to cafeteria food.”

Scott’s eyes grew wide in a mockery of fear. “Bad enough for you to eat cafeteria food? Oh my god.”

“It’s not my fault that I have a sensitive palate.” They went down to the cafeteria and got some food that didn’t look too horrific and by Nolan’s suggestion went up to the roof. It was even cooler up there, but Nolan said he didn’t mind. Even on those rare days that he ate the cafeteria’s food, he refused to eat in the cafeteria. He would shudder at the very thought of it.

They ate and talked on the roof as the noon hour passed. Nolan had actually arranged for a park bench to be placed up there with Melissa’s collaboration. There were jokes about how often they tended to end up on the roof anyway, so they might as well make it comfortable. They discussed work and the coming of fall. It was light, weightless conversation, but they weren’t here to be serious. They were here to see each other. 

Nolan had never become part of the pack, even though he had been invited several times. Liam had been particularly insistent, but Nolan had politely demurred every single time. Scott had finally asked him during one lunch about it. The doctor had explained that he didn’t feel he would belong in a pack he had once tried to destroy, and no matter how much Scott had joked about it, Nolan remained adamant in his refusal. 

So he was with the pack but not part of it. That was okay with Scott. He only wanted someone to eat lunch with. As much as he enjoyed eating with Liam, his beta got stuck with supervising lunchtime detention more often than not at the high school. 

“I’m going to propose something to you. What are you doing the weekend after next?” 

“Avoiding having a birthday party,” Scott quipped. “It’s on a Saturday this year.”

“Excellent.” Nolan smiled widely. “A few friends and I are going to go sailing. I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to boats, but my friends all do, and they think it would be really fun to watch me fall overboard and drown. They said I could bring someone.”

Scott smiled and shook his head. “Uhhh, thanks but …”

“Scott, come on?” Nolan was suddenly serious. “You said you wanted to avoid birthday parties. I promise, no parties on it.” 

Scott wanted to turn him down. It just didn’t feel right, going out on a boat with Nolan and people he didn’t even know. The idea made him uncomfortable. “Okay. Let me think about it?”

“You said that the last time I invited you away for the weekend, and the time before that.” Nolan took a bite of his sandwich. 

“I promise, I’ll give it real thought.” He was absolutely going to turn it down, he just didn’t want to hurt Nolan’s feelings too much by doing it to his face. “Thank you for thinking about me, though.”

“You said that the last time, too.” Nolan shrugged and went back to eating. 

Scott stirred his lukewarm noodles with a fork. Nolan had said nothing that wasn’t true, but it wasn’t like he disliked hanging around the doctor. He had never been sailing before, and it might be fun, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t go. 

He focused on other things, and let the conversation die. If he was too firm in his rejection, he might hurt Nolan’s feelings, and he didn’t want to do that. There wasn’t any profit to be had from that. 

“Are you doing anything interesting this weekend?” Scott asked to change the subject. 

“Oh, this weekend, I’ve got to help mom with the yard. Dad’s got a ‘business trip.’” Nolan made an exaggerated face. “He just doesn’t want to clean out the back yard.” 

Scott laughed. “I’ve been corralled into the same thing. Derek wants to plant more flower beds, so we have to clean out the brush before the leaves fall.” 

The conversation turned to Derek’s endless quest to turn the New Hale House into a contender for a spread in Better Homes and Gardens. Who had known that the former alpha would become grouchily obsessive when it came to making his new home, built on a different part of the Preserve, into a designer house?

Well, everyone knew. Especially Braeden. She complained about it, a lot, but she secretly loved it. She loved coming home from a job to something that smelled of pie and wood and family. 

Scott drove out there that next Saturday afternoon. He was actually looking forward to it. Every other time he had done something like this with Derek they had worked silently together for hours. Once it was cutting down trees. Another time it was digging trenches to bring water to an outbuilding. They’d end the day sweaty, tired and covered in dirt, but he’d feel contentment in the effort.

He sniffed as he came up the stairs, a strange scent in the air. Derek must have had a fire going in several different fireplaces. It wasn’t nearly cold enough for that yet, but he did see cords of firewood piled neatly in one corner of the yard. He’d tease Derek about it. He rang the doorbell. Derek kept telling him that he should just assume the door was open for him, but it still felt weird. He may be Derek’s alpha, but he wasn’t Braeden’s and he didn’t know her well enough just to walk into her house unannounced.

Braeden opened the door. “Oh, hey. Derek told me you were coming.” She smiled at him.

“You’re home? How was your last job?” 

She opened the door to let him in. “It was actually kind of boring. The trouble that my employer was afraid would happen didn’t happen, so I babysat a package for nothing.”

“That’s good right?” Scott came in. “Even if it was boring.” 

Braeden shrugged. “If I wanted a quiet job, I’d work at an insurance company. He’s in the living room.”

Scott knew the way. Derek had a thing for French doors, and the ones into the living room were closed. He must be listening to music, so Scott pulled them open. 

“Surprise!” A chorus of voices rang out with childish joy. Scott blinked; there must have been nearly twenty people in the living room and he hadn’t heard anything. “Happy Birthday!”

The first thing that went through Scott’s mind was astonishment that there were this many people who would be able to attend a surprise birthday party for him. He’d not thought about how many people knew him in town well enough to attend but would not wonder about the wood smoke from three chimneys and the white noise generators. 

The second thing was anger. Hadn’t his friends learned that he didn’t want to celebrate his birthday? Ever since he’d permanently settled in Beacon Hills six years ago, he’d avoided celebrating his birthday with anyone every single year. He had always, always refused a party and made sure to spend the day away from others to prevent things just like this. It was with great effort that he kept his eyes from flashing in irritation.

The third thing was resignation. It wouldn’t hurt for him to celebrate it just once. The party was going to be less for him than it was going to be for everyone else. He plastered on the best fake smile he could. 

“Guys, you shouldn’t have.” Scott said. He locked eyes with Derek. “You _really_ shouldn’t have.” 

“No, no, don’t blame Derek.” His mother came over and tried to squeeze the life out of him. She then lead him to the couch. “I wanted you to have this, so I may have blackmailed him.”

Braeden popped her head up. “Blackmailed him with _what?_ ”

Derek and Melissa were saved by the appearance of a gaggle of children. Talia, Derek’s eldest, carried a cake with thirty-three candles lit on it. Vernon, his younger child, carried an oddly shaped package like it was a priceless treasure. Liam and Hayden’s four rambunctious toddlers were carrying a single box above their heads. It swayed and threatened to fall over as they made their uncoordinated way to the coffee table. The Dunbar Mini-Pack, as they were affectionately called, deposited the huge box right in front of him. 

Finally, Marie came up behind the other children, standing a little ways behind them. Even after all this time, Scott couldn’t believe he had a sister. He let a smile spread across his face; he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. She held an envelope in her hands. “What’s this?”

“We all got you a present,” she said. She was quiet for a ten-year-old. She had his mother’s eyes and his mother’s hair, but she had the face and the reserve of an Argent. She had both families’ passion; she seldom shouted but when she was angry you had better watch out. 

Scott loved Marie. He wished she had been born ten years earlier, because he wanted nothing less than to have grown up with her, even though he knew that it was impossible. Chris and his mom wouldn’t have gotten together if it hadn’t been for him. He resented missing most of the first half of her life, so he always made it a point to attend every event she participated in. 

It saddened him, though, that Marie didn’t seem comfortable with him. Even now the other kids were crowing and jostling about whose present he should open first, and she was just standing there. It bothered Scott, but he was very careful not to show it. You couldn’t force someone to like you. His mom and Chris had assured him repeatedly that she’d warm up to him eventually. He’d missed the first five years of her life; maybe she’d never be close to him.

He blew out the candles of the cake first to the excited shrieks of the children and the cheers of the adults. His mother, beaming, swept the cake out of the way in order to cut it up. While he held up each gift in turn, getting the children to shout loudest to see what he opened first. Marie did not shout. 

There was a theme to the gifts. Vernon (no doubt with his mom Braeden’s help) had gotten him a new motorcycle helmet. He ooohed appreciatively and placed it on the child’s head. The big package was an acoustic guitar. It was a pretty nice one.

Scott gave them a wide-eyed grimace. “Someone has to teach me to play it!”

“You know!” shrieked the Mini-Pack. “Play for us!” 

Scott did as he was asked, playing a little tune that he remembered from the times he had practiced. It was awkward and not very good. He hadn’t practiced since he was twenty-one. He frequently had to travel light; there wasn’t room for a guitar.

At least he hadn’t embarrassed himself too much. Scott didn’t meet any adult’s eyes. Instead, he turned to Marie. “Do you want to open it for me?”

Marie shoved the envelope at him. “No.” Her denial was insistent. 

Scott took the envelope from her gently. This was not the time to figure out what that meant. Inside was a brochure and tickets for a cruise to Japan. He stared at them dumbfounded before he realized that such a cruise was an incredibly expensive vacation.

“Guys ….” Scott protested.

“Nope!” declared Hayden. “You don’t get to complain. Say thank you.”

Scott sighed. “Thank you. But there are two tickets here.” 

“You have months to find someone go with,” Liam piped up. “You can’t possibly screw that up.” 

Everyone laughed as if it were an enormous joke. Scott laughed along with them, even though there was nothing funny about this. The only person who had expressed an interest in him recently was Nolan, and he was indeed waving his arm like a madman in the back of the room. They were all looking at him as if it were as simple as making the choice to do it. Like all he had to do was pick up the phone and he could find someone. They didn’t understand, and part of him wanted to explain it to them, right then and there. He didn’t want a goddamn birthday party. 

Instead, Scott said: “Let’s have some cake.”

Melissa has finished carving the cake and Derek, Deaton, and Parrish help pass it out. Scott got up to wash his hands in the bathroom. He needed a little bit of time away from the messy knot of feelings that he was experiencing so he used one of the upstairs bathrooms. It was the guest bathroom, done in the softest blue and shell white. How did Derek keep his place this pretty with two kids? It brought a smile to his face. Derek was so happy with his children and his storybook house. He deserved it.

Scott left the bathroom, assured that he would be able to keep the smile up through the rest of the evening. He expected they would eat some food, tell some stories and then the night would be over as soon as the kids got tired. What he had not expected would to be hear an angry conversation coming from one of the bedrooms. 

It was the sheriff. “You’ve known about this for a month, Stiles. Both you and Rafe have.” Noah was angry. “He hasn’t noticed that neither of you are here yet.”

“Look” Stiles voice was barely audible. “The bad guys don’t clear their schedules with us beforehand. We have to move when we have to move. I’ll make it up to him later.”

The sheriff spoke bitterly, so bitterly that Scott thought for a moment about going in and comforting him. “You were once terrified that you and Scott would grow apart. Well, this is how that happens. One night, Stiles, that’s all we asked. You’ve seen him three times in two years, and you’re four hours away.”

Scott shook his head even though no one could see; Noah didn’t need to be worried about him. He was doing just fine. He left before he could hear what Stiles said in reply. He understood now, of course, what had happened with his father, had continued to happen with his father, and what was happening to Stiles. Sometimes there were things more important than everyday life, and they had to take priority.

Scott went back downstairs and ate his cake. He smiled and he smiled and he smiled until he couldn’t bear to smile one minute longer and, with a hurried explanation, he went out back. He had to be alone for a few minutes. 

Of course, he could not be alone for long. His mother came out to him. He heard her when she left the house. He thought about running into the woods and leaving her behind, but he couldn’t do that to her. 

He waited at the tree line, as the sun was plunging behind the hills. Twilight soft.

Melissa came up to him and put a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong, honey.”

“Nothing. I just needed to get some air.”

Melissa brushed a lock of hair out of her eye. It was shot through with gray. It made Scott’s heart ache in a way he couldn’t explain. “Yeah, that didn’t work when you were fifteen, it’s not going to work now.”

Scott tried to wait her out, but it seemed that his mother was going to be just as stubborn as he was. It was curious; he thought he had inherited that from his father.

Finally, he relented, or they were going to be here until the sun had disappeared entirely. “You knew I didn’t want a birthday party.” He forced the words out. “If I wanted one, I wouldn’t have spent years avoiding them.”

“I know.” Melissa nodded enthusiastically. “That’s why I threw one where you couldn’t avoid it.”

Scott looked at her sharply.

“Don’t give me that consent crap. It’s a parent’s right – no, it’s her duty – to interfere when their child is hurting themselves, no matter how old you are. And, you, bucko, were hurting yourself.”

“How was I hurting myself?”

Melissa grimaced at him in frustration. “Scott, you don’t do anything but work. You do your work as a veterinarian. You do your work as an alpha. Sure, you visit people when they badger you enough. The rest of the time I can only assume you sit in your darkened apartment watching your plants grow.”

“I …” Scott snorted. “I don’t watch my plants grow.”

“When’s the last time you took a vacation?” Melissa demanded.

“I went to Puerto Rico five years ago …”

“You went,” Melissa snapped, “to Puerto Rico to conclude peace talks with Monroe to end her crusade. Spending one afternoon on a beach between negotiations with a woman who wanted to kill you since forever is not a vacation.”

Scott rolled his eyes. He hadn’t believed he would get away with that.

Melissa wasn’t done. “When’s the last time you rode your motorcycle?”

“Mom, I’m not twenty anymore.” Scott protested. 

“Seriously, Scott? That’s your answer? You’re not twenty anymore? You loved that motorcycle, and you haven’t had it out of the garage since Marie was born.” 

Scott shrugged. Maybe if he just didn’t answer she would give up.

Melissa’s voice got soft. She was very concerned for him. He could hear it. “When’s the last time you dated anyone? I don’t mean having a good time, I mean letting yourself love someone.”

Scott took a deep breath. He didn’t want to have the conversation; not today. Not any day. But his mother didn’t look like she was going to stop wanting to have this exact conversation anytime soon.

“There’s a simple answer for it.” He replied. He searched the tree line for another way to get her to understand. The Preserve, as always, was unhelpful. Melissa took her hand off of his arm and put it on her hips. It was a fighting pose.

“One hundred and twenty-eight. Every morning I wake up and I count to one hundred and twenty-eight.” He said with a grim confidence. “That’s the answer. That’s the number of people who died because I didn’t die that night in woods. I don’t want to celebrate my being alive when they aren’t.” 

Melissa’s jaw dropped; anxiety poured off of her. This was what he had been trying to avoid.

It was a mantra that he often whispered to himself. Ten died when he took the captaincy from Jackson. Two died when Deucalion tried to make him join the Alpha Pack. Twelve died when Jennifer sacrificed them to the Nemeton to stop that very same pack. Twenty-six died to _it_. Fifteen people were killed because of the Dead Pool. Eight Calavera hunters died rescuing him from Kate. Nine chimeras died and stayed dead when the Dread Doctors took advantage of the re-energized Nemeton. Forty-one people died to the Beast. Five died when Douglas ate their pineal glands. It was one hundred and twenty-eight people who died when he hadn’t. 

“Those weren’t your fault.” His mother’s voice was firm.

“I didn’t say they were my fault. It doesn’t matter whose fault they were. They’re still dead. And I’m still alive.” Scott replied just as firmly. “I stopped counting after high school. It was too difficult to get real numbers.”

Melissa reached out to touch him. It was an unconscious gesture of comfort and he pulled away.

“Do you know how hard it was to wake up in a dirty old motel and get ready to fight people _you don’t know_ for people _you don’t know?_ Do you know how hard it was to withdraw from school for the third time because you have to go a foreign country and _get shot at with machine guns for a month?_ Do you know how hard it is to plan missions when you’re jealous of the teens you see on MTV’s _Daytona Beach Spring Break Party?_ ” His voice rose in pitch and anger. At first, he wanted to say that it wasn’t directed at his mother, but it was. 

“So I counted them. I counted them because I needed to. I counted them because you wanted me to. You told me if I could do something to help, I had to help. So I did. You told me that what made me different was that I had power and I cared enough to use it. So I cared. You told me not to run, so I didn’t run. I found a way to do what I needed to do, and that meant that every time I got weak, every time I wanted to give up, I counted. I counted the people who were dead.” 

“I didn’t mean for you …” Wonderful, he had made his mother cry. 

“I know what you meant, but it doesn’t work that way. You can’t spend a decade telling yourself that the life your living is the right thing for you to do and then suddenly start living an entirely different way.” He looked her in the face. “I can’t stop counting now.” 

“It’s been five years.” His mother wiped at her eyes. “You _can_ stop now.” 

“Mom. You can’t predict the future. Neither can I. Being ready is the best for everyone.” He went and put his hand on the tree. “I understand that you might not get that. You know what Malia said when she broke up with me? Other than the fact that she appreciated that we actually talked about breaking up?” 

__His mother shook his head. He had never told anyone about his break up with Malia. Not even Stiles._ _

“She said she had spent eight years living in the woods as a coyote out of guilt. She wasn’t going to spend eight years as a soldier out of love.” Scott turned back to Melissa. “No one is going to pay for my choice. You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone what I told you.” 

His mother jutted out her chin. “No. Nothing you said here makes me think this is good for you. I’m your mother, I’m not your pack.” 

Scott had been afraid of that. She wasn’t going to let this go. Frustrated, he turned and stalked off into the Preserve. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott is saved from his mother's concern by bad news. His hunt begins.

Monday morning after the birthday party, Scott felt a sense of relief as he looked over the schedule for that day. The clinic was going to be very busy; in fact, they were going to be _ridiculously_ busy. “Good,” he said out loud to the room, forgetting that he wasn’t the only person there. 

Alan looked up from where he was hanging up his coat. “Anything good in particular?” 

Scott considered lying to him, but then he shoved the urge down. Alan had done nothing to deserve it. “We’re really busy today. I’m looking forward to that, because this weekend was something else.” Hoping that would end the conversation, Scott moved toward the front door to flip the sign over.

“I imagine arguing with your mother would be something to ruin the last few days.” Deaton looked apologetic.

Scott sighed. Of course, his Emissary would have an inkling of what went on in the backyard at the Hale House. And then again at his mother’s house. And then again at his apartment. He shouldn’t have lost his temper with his mother; there was a reason he hadn’t just come out and told her how he felt before. She was just as stubborn as he was, and it didn’t seem like she was planning on letting this particular conflict go any time soon. 

“I apologize if my cooperation made you uncomfortable.” Alan went on as if Scott’s silence was an invitation to do so. “I’ll admit, I was on your mother’s side when she suggested that we needed to hold a party for you.”

“How did you know what we argued about?” Scott thought he had hid his emotions pretty well when he finally had come back into the Hale House.

“While I may conceal my insights in order to respect another’s privacy, I think I’m a good judge when people are upset and trying to pretend they aren’t. Also, your mother called me to ask for my advice. I hope you don’t mind that I talked to her.”

“No. No, I’m glad you did. How much did she tell you?” Scott wasn’t ashamed of his feelings. 

“I believe she told me enough to understand the gist of your argument.” Alan walked around to face Scott directly. He did this when he wanted to signal that he was about to say something important.

Scott put his hands in his coat pockets. “You agree with her?” 

“I don’t. I don’t agree with you either.” The veterinarian’s smooth voice held no judgment; it was the professional, gentle tone he took when he was simply concerned. “She’s not wrong to think that you should make more of an effort to satisfy your own needs. Balance is, after all, a tenet of my other occupation. If you live only for others and never do anything for yourself, eventually you will become overbalanced. Fatigued. For people like you, it’s a common danger. On the other hand, I think that what you said to your mother wasn’t wrong. Your life is the sum of your experiences, and you’ve experienced taking on a lot of responsibility at a far younger age than most people. For my part I regret my role in that, but it doesn’t change what you’ve endured. It is part of you now.”

“You shouldn’t regret what you did. My mom shouldn’t either. I was frustrated, and I said …” Scott bit his lip. “I made it sound like I blamed her, and I don’t. She did the best she could. You did the best you could. I did the best I could. And we accomplished a lot.”

“But like all things, those accomplishments had a price.” Deaton concluded. 

“Yes.” Scott was so glad that Alan understood him. But then again, that was part of the job description for an Emissary, wasn’t it?

“If I may offer you a bit of unasked-for advice, since we both know that everything you do or want to do will have such requirements, it’s best to try not to pay the debts you don’t actually owe.” He claps his hands. “Do you want to do the neutering or should I?”

“You should.” Scott nodded earnestly. “I can’t bear to look them in the eyes when I do it.”

Scott had remarked to his friends on more than one occasion that the aftermath of a fight with a person you loved was very similar to the aftermath of a firefight. You moved gingerly so that you wouldn’t re-open that wounds because you didn’t know if this was the time when you would bleed out because of them. You kept playing the events over and over in your head to see if there was something you could have done differently to minimize the damage or avoid it entirely.

There hadn’t been anything he could have done differently. His mother loved him too much to let this go.

So Scott threw himself into his work. The dogs, the cats, and the sick iguana that he dealt with over those days were easy. They didn’t want what was best for you. They didn’t have to wonder if trauma was making you close down or that you just didn’t want to talk. They either loved you or they didn’t.

The tactic worked; the next three days passed and he avoided talking to anyone. Alan was more than capable of understanding when Scott didn’t want to speak about something and respected his silence. Others weren’t so skilled. He knew that he should call Nolan soon and give him a final answer about the sailing trip. He didn’t want to go, but he also thought that going might make his mother feel better.

The door chime announced the arrival of a visitor. Pulling his gloves off, Scott went out into the waiting room. “Good afternoon …” He paused and then gave the newcomer a big smile. “Corey! This is a surprise.” 

Corey looked the same as the last time that Scott had seen him. Ever since he and Mason had moved together to San Francisco, he had been dressing in a far more sophisticated manner. Far more hip than Scott dressed, of course. On the other hand, Corey was still trying to coax some form of beard and moustache combo to appear on his face. It made him look that he had messily eaten a chocolate donut. 

Corey raised his hand in greeting. “I’m sorry for not calling ahead of time. This is kind of a spur of the moment thing.” He gave Scott a wistful smile. “I’m also sorry for missing your birthday party.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Scott shook his head. “We’re pretty busy this afternoon, but not too busy for pack.” He was about to say more when a wave of stressed out scent from Corey hit him. It was so strong that Scott did not even have to focus, and it was accompanied by an overwhelming powerful chemical. 

“Corey. Is there something the matter?”

Corey’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I really need to talk to both you and Dr. Deaton.”

“Yeah, come on back.” Scott turned the sign to ‘Closed’ while the chimera entered the examination room.

Alan was staring at Corey with concern from his seat near the desk, while the chimera in turn was staring at the surface of one of the examination tables. Scott stood close enough to Corey so that the chimera could feel his presence. Corey had been pack since the end of the fight with the Ghost Riders, even though he had never gone on missions during the long crusade. Scott didn’t need someone to be a fighter in order to be part of his family. 

Mason was Emissary for a pack who lived just outside of San Francisco. Both of them, however, lived in the city where Mason was a successful software engineer and Corey was a not-so-successful writer. Or, as Corey frequently corrected them, he was a freelance online content generator. Stiles had referred to his career several times as ‘net-slave.’

Corey took a deep breath. “As I think both of you know, Mason and I decided to adopt.” 

“Yeah.” Scott had been so glad when they had gotten married. He had been even happier when they announced their desire to have children. That Corey and Mason had remained together after high school when so many other relationships had shattered under the weight of what had happened was a bright spot in Scott’s world. The couple always joked if they could get past the amount of trauma they experienced when they were first dating they could get past anything. 

“Has something happened?” Deaton asked, obviously concerned.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Corey wrung his hands. The gesture was so authentic that Scott reflexively put his hand on Corey’s shoulder. “You know they make you take a physical if you are planning to adopt a child.”

“It’s a common practice,” Deaton nodded. “Was the doctor I referred you to when you moved satisfactory?”

“He was.” Corey took a deep breath. “He was pretty good, but he found something. It looks like …” The chimera bit his lip. “It looks like I’m dying.”

Scott’s good mood collapsed into disappointment. He kept himself from asking something stupid like if Corey was sure.

“As you know, the Doctors used an enhanced form of mercury when creating us. If we stabilized as a chimera, the mercury didn’t hurt us like it would a normal human. If we failed to stabilize, then the mercury would start to expel itself from our tissues. When Theo brought me back, I stabilized.” Corey said in a rush. It was hard for him to speak; he had always hated talking about that time. “Well, when the doctor first started the tests, I had elevated levels of mercury in my bloodstream. We decided to do a test a month later and then a month after that and the levels keep getting higher.”

“That’s not good news,” Alan said calmly.

“I’m more resistant than normal humans due to my nature, but eventually the concentration will get to the point that I’ll die of mercury poisoning.”

Scott’s mind searched for an answer. “Can’t they extract the mercury before then?”

“Well, they don’t really know how. Mason thinks the saturation of certain of my tissues by the mercury is part of the process that made me what I am. If the mercury had remained in my tissues, there wouldn’t have been a problem.”

“May I see the doctor’s reports?” While Alan was a veterinarian just like him, he had more knowledge of both the Doctor’s experiments and human biology than Scott did. Corey handed him a flash drive. 

“If you need anything,” Scott stated to Corey, earnestly. “If Mason needs anything, you just have to ask.” He put both hands on Corey’s shoulders and squeezed. “We’re here for you.”

Corey gave him a fake smile. Scott looked him in the eyes, trying to silently give the chimera permission to be more open. It wasn’t part of the alpha power; it was the power of years of friendship. Corey blinked and the smile disappeared one more. “I’m scared.” The whisper was too low for Deaton to hear it, but Scott heard it perfectly. 

Corey wiped his eyes and then shook his head. “I want to hear what Alan has to say. There might be something the pack can do.”

Scott went and got all three of them coffees from the shop down the street. He sometimes had to fight the urge to physically crowd a member of the pack when they were upset. It was an instinctual impulse, an animal thing, and while it pleased a part of himself that lurked far below the surface, he was particularly careful when doing it with some members of the pack. Not everyone was a wolf, and he needed to make sure he put their needs first. Authority had its cost.

Deaton began speaking immediately when he walked back into the room. This situation was about the health of a pack member; the alpha needed to know. “I agree with him, Corey. This shows a progressive breakdown. If we do not find a way to stop it, the prognosis is fatal.” It didn’t sound callous coming from Alan’s mouth. He wasn’t announcing; he was confirming. From the look of relief on the chimera’s face, it had desired effect.

“What is happening?” Scott demanded. 

Corey gestured for Alan to continue. 

“It seems that the Doctors never designed their subjects for long term viability. The process used to create the chimera isn’t a permanent one. While onset depends on the implanted supernatural tissues and the health of the subject, the breakdown of the tissues is inevitable.” 

Scott felt like he was the one who was sick. “But he was fine for more than a decade.”

“I killed myself.” Corey joked morbidly. “As long as I lived in Beacon Hills, the Nemeton must have held things in check. It’s only really started since I moved to San Francisco last year.” 

“Then you can move back.” Scott suggested, hopefully. 

Deaton pointed out something on the computer. “Exposure to the Nemeton might slow the process down, but I suspect more will be needed. We have to find a way to stabilize him, once again.”

“What about Hayden?” Scott wanted to know. The urge to protect his pack sang in his blood. “What about Mason?” 

Corey looked stricken. He hadn’t thought about them, but that wasn’t a surprise to Scott. Corey had thought of himself as weak and flawed even before he was taken to be a chimera. It wouldn’t occur to him that Mason and Hayden could possibly be in the same boat. 

“Hayden should be safe,” Deaton theorized. “Your Bite change her into a full werewolf. But to be on the safe side, I’ll have her come in and perform some basic tests. As for Mason, he was given a full examination when he was shot by Monroe’s hunters. If he had any mercury-imbued tissues, they would have shown up in the surgery or in any of the medical examinations he had since then.” 

Both Scott and Corey relaxed at that information. He clapped Corey on the shoulder and as he did so he thought something. He had spent so long hating the very idea of turning someone into a werewolf that it hadn’t immediately occurred to him until they started talking about Hayden. He realized, with a shock, that he was okay with the new idea that had occurred to him.

“Do you think the Bite could help him?” 

Corey startled at that. He looked at Scott as if he was surprised. Did Corey think that Scott wouldn’t offer? He’d done it for Hayden.

Deaton thought about for a moment. “A full transformation would possibly remove the threat of mercury poisoning. However, when you changed her, the damage was gross physical damage that her chimera nature was having trouble healing. This is a different thing entirely. It could kill him.”

Scott nodded, deflating a little bit. 

Deaton continued. “As I’m sure the doctor told you, there are treatment options that we can pursue before going to something as extreme as Scott biting you. But the choice is yours.” 

Corey nodded to the veterinarian. “I have time. The doctor said that unless it accelerates, I should have six months at least.” 

“And if you move back the Nemeton could give you more time. In the end, the best treatments will be a matter of timing, Corey.” Alan glanced at Scott who encouraged him to continue. “I would talk this over with Mason before making any permanent decisions.”

Corey wrung his hands again. “I like the doctor in San Francisco, but would you mind supervising things?” 

“Of course, Corey.” Deaton answered. “I don’t mind, and I’ll do my best.”

Deaton and Scott looked over the files on the computer; Scott craned his neck over Deaton’s shoulder. Every once in a while, Deaton would point out a significant detail or explain something that Scott didn’t know. 

Fifteen minutes into it, another thought occurred to Scott. It sprung out of his mouth immediately. “Someone should talk to Theo.”

“He could be vulnerable as well,” Deaton wondered. “Though he has never let me do as thorough examination as I did on the others.” 

Corey wore a slight frown. “Scott, can I talk to you, outside? I don’t want to take Alan’s time more than I need to.” 

“Okay. Sure.” Scott had wanted to continue to look over Corey’s medical files as well, but this was probably more important. They walked out the back and down into the relatively creepy alley. As much as they were safe, since he was the biggest monster in Beacon Hills, Scott wished that they’d fix it up a bit.

Corey rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t want you to think that I’m …” He hesitated. “This isn’t a really appropriate question …”

“It’s okay, Corey. You can ask me anything.” Scott had learned the hard way that being open wasn’t enough; you had to encourage your pack to speak.

The chimera looked at his feet. “Do we really want to get Theo involved?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t we?” It had been so long since Scott had seen or even thought about the First Chimera. He was no longer an enemy, but he wasn’t pack. 

Corey looked up at him; his conflicted emotions were plain to see. “I feel weird about it. I think he should be told, but I don’t want to tell him. I don’t like him. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to spend any of the time I have left looking for him.” 

“We’re going to do …” Scott began.

Corey cut off his reassurance. “You don’t know that you’ll be able to help me. I don’t have any doubts that you and Deaton and Mason will try your best, but I have to … I have to accept that you may not be able to help me. I have to be ready to die.” 

Scott felt an ache blossom in his chest. This was something that he couldn’t fight, but he wanted to. He swallowed saying something like that back down. This wasn’t about him. 

“It so damn silly. I used to hate him so much, but here I am … I want to not care about Theo.”

Scott studied the other man for a moment. “You know, he became an ally.”

“Yeah. I know he tried to make up for it.” Corey’s eyes suddenly blazed forth in fury. “But I don’t care that he did that. I don’t care that he became a better person! I might die. I might never see forty. I might never hold a child of my own, and he did that. He helped them find us. He helped them kidnap us. He resurrected me to be his servant.” He took a heaving breath. “So, he doesn’t kill people any more. So he’s helped save others. It won’t change what he did to me one little bit. I’m not going to hurt him, but I don’t like him, and I’m never going to like him, and it doesn’t make me a bad person.”

Scott raised his hands to mollify him. “No one expects you to.”

Corey rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hands. “You expect me to.”

Scott gaped at this revelation. He forgot how people saw him some times. “I’d never expect you to ignore your feelings about this. I would never insist that you talk to him.”

Corey shrugged miserably.

“I’ll find him, and I’ll tell him.” Scott knew that no matter what Theo had done at first, what he had done later more than made it his responsibility to let him know about this threat to his life. “Don’t worry about it anymore. He could be fine.”

“Or he could be dead.” Corey answered bitterly. “Sorry! Sorry. I’m just upset.”

“You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to get angry.” Scott took him by the forearm. “Stop worrying about Theo. I’ll handle it.”

###### 

It was pretty funny what one could find themselves doing, sometimes.

Scott was running. He was running by sitting in an upper-range San Francisco restaurant in North Beach. He hadn’t run from power-mad alphas, vengeance-obsessed darach, remorseless assassins, insane scientists, the Wild Hunt, and a war that spanned continents, but he was running from working things out with his own mother. 

“I’m not running.” Scott lied into the phone.

“You’re not running?” Derek responded acidly, and Scott could imagine his eyebrows shifting into their don’t-give-me-that-bullshit position. “You could have fooled me.” 

Scott picked at the edge of the menu. “Someone needs to find Theo.”

“That someone doesn’t have to be you, and it doesn’t have to be you alone. I would have thought that you would at least try to avoid my mistakes.” Derek’s voice had just the right amount of accusation in it. 

“Look, I’m not making your mistakes. I didn’t move into an abandoned train station when I had millions of dollars in the bank. I’m not lurking around high schools.” Scott tried to go for humor, but there was some bite to his words. He was frustrated that no one understood. He had hoped that Derek would be the one to understand but, in the end, he got why the former alpha couldn’t. Derek had actually evolved when he let go off the tragedies of the past and embraced a new way of living. It couldn’t have been too far a stretch for his friend to see Scott as doing something similar: letting old decisions weigh him down.

“You’re fighting a war, Scott, that’s been over for years.” Derek pointed out carefully. “You’ve created ways of dealing that made perfect sense when you started, but they don’t make sense any more. Those are _exactly_ my mistakes.” 

“I wish my mother hadn’t recruited you into this,” Scott complained.

“She cares about you. As do I.” Derek tried to sound reasonable. “I’ve experienced this side of you before; you can be very stubborn when you think you’re right.”

“I could also _be_ right,” Scott snapped back. “I’m not a teenager anymore.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just acting like one.” Derek replied.

“Tell you what. When I get back, you and Mom can lure me out into the woods and throw me into trees until I agree with you.” Scott wondered when he had started taking sarcasm lessons from Stiles. 

Derek didn’t answer. The disapproval seeped through the phone. 

“I’m sorry. That was a low blow. Can we table this until I get back? I’ll sit down with you and we’ll talk, okay?” 

“Do you promise?” Derek asked. Everyone knew that if Scott promised, he would try his best.

“I promise. I’ll talk to you later.” They exchanged farewells. Scott scowled at the empty place setting in front of him. 

Regardless of what Derek thought, their situations were not similar. While he had never wanted to be an alpha let alone a werewolf, he had somehow managed to save more people than he had gotten killed. Taking responsibility for that had been hard, but it had been worth it, and part of taking responsibility included being prepared. What they wanted him to do wouldn’t just be letting go of terrible memories, it would be discarding lessons paid for in blood – his and other’s. 

If he stopped being the best alpha he could be, if he stopped being ready to protect his pack, if he couldn’t save innocents, it would make everything that had happened before pointless. 

He waited patiently for his father to arrive. It would be one uncomfortable conversation with someone he loved followed by another uncomfortable conversation with someone he should love more than he did. He didn’t hate or even resent his father in the same way he once had. It had become clear over the years that his father’s frame of reference didn’t work the same as his did. 

His father categorized people. He sorted them into little boxes: Family, Coworkers, Criminals, Others, etc. In Rafael’s head, he kept track of what category was the most important at any given time. Criminals needed to be caught, so that was usually his highest priority. Coworkers and Family frequently fought for second place. Sometimes Family became more important than anything else, but it wouldn’t stay that way. It wasn’t a malicious decision. It simply was. 

It also didn’t help that his father wasn’t the most punctual person in the world. Rafael was the type of man who planned out every appointment as if he could control exactly how much time he would spend at each. He couldn’t; no one could, but that didn’t stop him from trying. And that made him habitually late.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Rafael said predictably. “Did you order without me?”

“No, Dad.” Scott kept his tone light and free from annoyance. No matter how irritating some of his father’s behaviors could be, he was the one asking for something tonight. “I just had a beer.”

“Thought you couldn’t have that?” His father inquired conversationally. 

No, _you_ can’t have it. Scott swallowed the retort. His father tended not to remember the details of his supernatural existence. “I can drink it; I just can’t get drunk. Some craft beers taste pretty good though.”

They made small talk for a while, ordering particular food at Rafael’s suggestion. This was one of his favorite restaurants. It fit his father. It was unpretentious enough not to make one feel uncomfortable, yet pricey enough to make you feel elite. And now his father was very elite: he was the Special Agent in Charge of the San Francisco Field Office. 

“So.” His father took a sip of his iced tea right after saying this. The conversation was about to go in a very unpleasant direction. “Would you be at all interested in why Stiles and I couldn’t make it to your birthday party?”

Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. Is it interesting?” He wasn’t sixteen anymore, and he understood the importance of what the FBI did. He had needed his father when he was sixteen and scared out of his mind. That was seventeen years ago; he had gotten used to having his father only when it was convenient. 

Rafael started in on a tale of heroin smuggling in the Port of San Francisco. Scott was sure what had happened was very important to someone. It was obviously important to his father and from the amount of times his father mentioned him, it was important to Stiles as well.

If he was feeling grumpy or uncharitable, he might have found it ironic that Stiles had turned out to be more like his father than Scott was, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t true. Rafael was a dedicated agent and good at his job, but he treated it like a job. It wasn’t personal. Stiles, Scott knew, took it personally. High school had shown Stiles that there was evil in the world beyond incurable diseases, and college had shown him that some of that evil had nothing at all to do with the supernatural. People could be vile to each other without claws or fangs. Stiles realized that he could stop it. Stiles found that he wanted to stop it. His father was a good FBI agent; Stiles was a fantastic FBI agent. 

And yet, Scott still wished sometimes that Stiles wasn’t so fantastic. He pushed those feelings away. He wasn’t here to judge anyone. He was here to get help.

“So you told me on the phone that you need my help. What’s wrong?” Rafael had finished his tale of the heroin and was tucking into his steak. 

“I need help finding someone. He’s gone off the grid and no one knows where he is. I’d hire a private investigator, but time is a factor.” Scott started to explain. “You met him once – Theo Raeken.” 

“Theo Raeken.” Rafael’s eyes lidded for a moment as he made an effort to recall who he was. “Wait a minute, wasn’t he the one who tried to kill you?”

“Uhhhh. Yeah, but that was a long time ago.”

Rafael looked very disbelieving. “A long time ago. Didn’t he murder his sister?” 

Scott couldn’t believe that he had suddenly put in a position of having to defend Theo. “Well he was ten and being manipulated by mad scientists?”

“And didn’t he murder two more people and was an accessory to nine other murders – even if they didn’t all stick?” His father looked very uncomfortable at that last part. 

“Yes.” Scott admitted. 

“And what’s he up to now?” His father asked. Scott felt like he was being interrogated.

“He may be dying. He was a chimera – I told you about them – the process that creating them could be failing.” Scott decided honesty was the best approach.

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy,” Rafael commented flippantly.

“Dad!”

“I’m not going to apologize. At the least, he should be in jail. If for some reason that can’t happen, death is an appropriate substitute.” This was simply consistent behavior; the Special Agent in Charge had no sympathy for criminals.

“He worked hard to come back from that. I accepted his help, and I accepted him as an ally.” Scott tried to explain. 

Rafael burst out laughing but stopped when he saw that Scott was serious. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated his son. From the tone of his voice, he might even have been a little angry. “Wow. Scott, I hate to break it to you, but you’re not the State of California, and you’re not Jesus Christ. Your forgiveness of Theo is pretty much as useful as tits on a bull.” He shook his head. “Those kids who died had families. They had futures. It’s not your place to say that he’s made up for what he did.” 

“I’m not his defense attorney, Dad. I just want to know where he is so I can warn him that he could be dying.” Scott complained. “Yes, he murdered people, but there’s no evidence you or anyone else could use to try him.”

“I don’t know, Scott. I’m pretty good at finding evidence.” Rafael looked him in the eye. “I don’t like the idea that people get away with crimes because they’re not human.”

Scott didn’t know what to say to that. If he were being objective, he had gotten away with crimes because he was not human.

“I know. If you remember, I fought a war over this. You can’t put supernatural people through the system without exposing us, but we can’t let that be used to protect murderers and thieves. I try my best as an alpha. If you’ve got a better answer, please tell me.” 

“You know I don’t.” Rafael shook his head ruefully. They fell silent for a few minutes, eating their dinner, until the agent looked up again. “It’s important to you to find Theo?” 

Scott answer without thinking. “Yes. No matter what he’s done, he deserves to know the danger.”

“I’m not the one you need to be talking to, then.” His father chuckled. “I’m not the one who keeps track of potential enemies to you and your pack.” 

Scott squinted at his father. Who could …? 

He sighed. “Stiles.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott spends some quality time with his best friend.

Txt Rec: OMW!  
Txt Rec: Not long now.  
Txt Sent: Are you texting while driving?  
Txt Rec: Maybe.  
Txt Sent: Stop. 

Scott stood as patiently as he could; there would be little point in getting angry at Stiles over this, though part of him really wanted to be angry. He had been very conscientious on when he got to the apartment after he had finished lunch with his father. He wanted to have enough time to reconnect with Stiles and not give the impression that he was only here to get information. Stiles had called him when he had first arrived at the apartment to tell him he was running late, but if Scott didn’t mind he could wait in the hallway. 

The clock in the hallway was slipping past a quarter after eight. Any moment now, Scott believed the other tenants of the building were going to call the police on the creepy werewolf lurking in the hallway. The old woman in apartment 312 kept opening the door, seeing Scott in the hallway, and then closing the door again. No smile or wave from him seemed to put her at ease.

Scott glanced at his watch. He would give Stiles thirty seconds before he would go to the car and wait there, but luckily the elevator opened to dramatically reveal an overburdened Stiles, who somehow balanced a grocery bag, two take-out bags, his house keys, his car keys, and a briefcase. Several of these objects threatened to completely escape his control as he jogged down the hallway, but Stiles managed to keep all of them off the floor.

“Here.” Scott stepped forward and took the bag of groceries and one of the bags of take-out food. He made himself smile. He had to remember it was Stiles being Stiles, not Stiles being Rafael. 

“I want you to know that I could strangle people. I could grab them by their necks and cut off every ounce of air to their lungs.” Stiles vented his irritation at Scott and the walls of the apartment building’s hallway. “I told every single person in the office that I had to be out of there by at six. I called the take-out place at five and told them I would be there at six thirty. I didn’t get out of the office until I was supposed to be at the takeout place. On the way home, I had to stop and pick up toilet paper because I’m out, and every aisle I went down, I remember something else I needed. I got stuck in traffic, the take-out place didn’t have the food ready, and I couldn’t find a parking space in the lot of my own building. Right now, I could garrote most of downtown San Francisco without remorse.”

Stiles finally got the right key from the right keychain into the door and let them into his darkened apartment. With a shoulder, he turned on the light. He was already half the way to the kitchen when he noticed that Scott was stuck in the doorway. “Uh. Hold on there.” Placing the take-out and the briefcase down, he walked over and broke the mountain ash line. 

Scott tried his best to keep his face neutral. Stiles’ need to protect himself against his species tended to make him uncomfortable. Stiles knew this.

Stiles looked up at him and frowned slightly. Even though the world had kept them apart for so many years, he could read Scott almost better than anyone. “I … I’m sorry about the lateness. And the ash.”

Scott accepted the offered apology with a nod. “Good.” When they were children, they had seldom apologized to each other because an apology made what they had done _real_. Back then, if they could just act as if whatever had happened to make them angry with each other had never happened, then it _was_ as if it had never happened, and everything was just as good as it had been before. But when they became adults, it didn’t work anymore. Neither Scott nor Stiles had the patience or the time for hurts to just vanish on their own. They had their own lives now and each of those lives came with its own demands. 

Scott had been able to call Stiles when he needed his help; that had never changed. But while they were fighting a war together, it hadn’t left a lot of free time to spend on the weekend hanging out as they used to do. Even when Monroe’s crusaders weren’t shooting at him or he didn’t have a crucial exam, Scott frequently had to deal with admiring alphas or suspicious alphas or suspicious and admiring alphas and that took time. Diplomacy could be as draining as fighting; he couldn’t put Stiles first anymore. 

It was a mutual failing. For the last two years, Stiles had worked out of the FBI field office in San Francisco. He had originally planned to work in Sacramento, but that had been thwarted by inter-office politics. Even after that, he had planned to commute between Beacon Hills and the city, but it turned out to be ridiculously impossible. Agents worked when agents needed to work, and Stiles in his dedication would frequently put in ten to twelve hour days. The three-hour trip between Beacon Hills and San Francisco was just too much. He was far enough away that he had to make an effort to visit, but too close to have a ready-made excuse.

They had only managed to see each other in person three times in those two years, even though Scott believed neither consciously wanted their friendship to wither. It might not have been as strong as it once was, but the foundations weren’t gone because they had worked at it. They worked at it by playing games over the internet even if they had a dozen other things to do it. They worked at it by calling each other up regularly, even in the middle of the night when both of them just wanted to sleep. When they were physically together, they tried to shut out the thousands of distractions that could come between them. They had even taken a course on what Mason had called ‘active listening.’ They knew they couldn’t afford to assume everything was alright between them anymore. They couldn’t take what they had for granted.

And because they had done this, they were still friends. They weren’t as close as they were in high school, where they could spend hours on meaningless conversation and not worry if they were boring the other person. They couldn’t have a screaming fight and then act the next day as if nothing had happened. There wasn’t space in their lives for that, but they were still friends. Because they wanted to be.

And it didn’t mean that they couldn’t get irritated with each other. Scott, no matter his mission, did not appreciate waiting in an apartment building hallway for an hour and a half. This wasn’t the first time Stiles had been unreasonably late and it wouldn’t be the last time. Stiles threw himself into his job as he had been throwing himself into everything since they had met in the sandbox. 

“Let’s say that tonight we eat like civilized people at the dining room table I paid way too much money for!” Stiles piped up, once more heading deeper into the apartment. Scott followed dutifully. He knew where the dining room was.

The over-priced table was covered with files and boxes that looked to be something Stiles had smuggled home from work. “Oh.” Stiles said sheepishly. “I forgot about that stuff. Couch and TV trays it is.” 

Scott couldn’t help but notice that there were at least a half-dozen boxes shoved in the back of the dining room. Even after two years, Stiles still hadn’t fully unpacked. He shook his head and went out to join him.

Stiles’ apartment wasn’t like Scott’s apartment back in Beacon Hills. His mom would no doubt say that at least Stiles’ apartment looked like someone lived there. Apparently, to her, an apartment wasn’t really a home unless it was cluttered with things like pictures or nick knacks or unread magazines or whatever the hell you were supposed to clutter up an apartment with. According to his mother, his apartment was Spartan, like his life.

Stiles’ apartment, on the other hand, had found new ways of expounding on the concept of clutter. Aside from the unpacked boxes from his move back from the East Coast, there was a significant accumulation of things stored on every available. It wasn’t to the level of hoarding, yet. He was supposed to have purchased a few filing cabinets to store them in, but he seemed to never have gotten around to it.

Stiles had settled on the couch and had turned the baseball divisional championships on. The Chinese food he had brought home smelled really delicious. “This is the good stuff, cooked the way it would actually be cooked in China.” He gave them names but Scott didn’t recognize them. “There’s two orders for you of this really, really spicy kind of savory beef dish, and something vegetarian for me.”

“You’re a vegetarian now?” Scott asked, curious about the change.

“No. I’m an omnivore with the best of them, I just like Buddha’s Delight. Tell me what you think of it.” He held up chopsticks and fed him some of his dish. 

They watched the game and chatted lazily during it and more intensely during the commercial. Scott gave the rundown on the sheriff and his mom and the rest of the pack. 

“So.” Dinner had been eaten, the game was in the seventh inning stretch, and Stiles folded his hands over his stomach. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“I didn’t come down just because I want something from you,” Scott protested lamely placing the remains of the Chinese food on the end table. “And, well yeah, I do want something from you, but …” 

“I’m not busting your ass, Scotty. When we do see each other face-to-fact, you usually give me a lot more warning. You’re not the most spontaneous dude anymore. Given how busy we’ve both been, I’ll take what I can get.” 

Scott bit his lip. “I don’t want to make you feel like I’m using you.”

“You are using me, but that’s okay, because I understand that you wouldn’t use me unless you absolutely needed to.” Stiles chuckled. “It’s also okay because I like to be useful. I’ve always liked that.”

“It’s not okay for me to use you.” Scott protested this earnestly. “You’re more than that to me.” 

“Hey, Scotty, why didn’t I go to your birthday party?” Stiles countered with a non sequitur. 

“I … don’t know.” Scott took a wild guess. “Because you had a case?” 

“I didn’t go because I didn’t think about it until it was too late. I scheduled an entire operation for the same weekend, when I’ve known about your mom’s surprise plans for months. It wasn’t because I hate everyone in Beacon Hills and try to find any excuse not to go; it’s because I get so focused on what’s happening right in front of me that I forget what’s going on elsewhere. It’s a bad habit, but it’s mine. You weren’t mad that I wasn’t there, were you?”

“Not really. I didn’t want a party.” It was the truth. 

“So, there’s no harm no foul. In the end, what’s important isn’t that we spend time together in the right way or at regular intervals. What’s important is that when you admit that you only came down because you needed something that you keep that puppy-who-peed-on-the-carpet look on your face. Because that means you care what I think of you, and that’s all I really need. Even if your mom’s right, and you’ve permanently lodged a stick up your ass.”

“I … what?” Scott parsed the last few words of Stiles’ speech. He sighed meaningfully. “She got to you as well.”

“She started sending me very detailed e-mails of your determination to live like a monk. Dude, if what she says is true, she’s got a point. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“I’ve been on dates.”

“That’s an evasion.” Stiles put a mark an imaginary scoreboard. “You didn’t say who and when. I’m not going to bust your balls about it, because I’m concerned more with your happiness than scoring points.” 

Scott and Stiles stared at each other for a minute. Finally, Stiles smiled. “But, yeah, I am totally going to bust your balls over it.”

Scott had been hoping this strip would give him a break from well-meaning nagging. “Well, don’t. Can we save that for later?” 

“We can do business first. We’ll save the heart-to-heart chats for later. Because I really think we’re due for one.” Stiles replied seriously. 

“Yeah. That sounds good to me.” It did not sound good at all, but he was right. There was a tension behind Stiles’ eyes and he knew it matched the tension behind his own.

Stiles rubbed his hands. “So what can the best agent in the FBI do for his second favorite alpha?” 

Scott raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism. 

“Okay, the best agent in the FBI who’s ever been kidnapped by the Wild Hunt?”

Scott nodded. “We’ll allow it. And what’s this about second favorite?”

“I love you like a brother and you’ve got the cutest red eyes I’ve ever seen, but Mariel is still the tops.” Stiles clutched his chest. They had met Mariel on a mission soon after they had both turned twenty-five. “I would die for her.”

“Mariel wanted to have you killed because she was afraid your work would reveal us to the Bureau. I nearly had to fight her over it.”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s awesome.” Stiles burst out laughing. “So, what’s the prob, alpha-buddy-of-mine? Nothing I won’t do for you.”

“I need to find Theo.” 

“Well, fuck.” Stiles scowled at Scott from the other side of the couch. 

Stiles would never like Theo. He would never trust Theo. He would always want everyone he cared about as far away from Theo as possible. It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t know how Theo had helped during the Ghost Rider crisis or with the war against Monroe’s crusaders. It wasn’t that Stiles didn’t believe in rehabilitation, it was that he simply could not forgive the tactics Theo had employed against the pack. 

Theo hadn’t just been an enemy; he had been an enemy who had taken advantage of the darkness that Stiles hid within. He had used that advantage to undermine Stiles’ relationships with his father, with Scott, and with Malia. The scars Theo left would never go away, and Stiles would remember each and every one of them until the day he died. 

Scott waited for his friend to scowl a little less, before he launched into why he had to find Theo. He explained the medical emergency. “I am going to do what I can to help. Right now, that means warning Theo.”

“You _are_ helping. You’re there for Corey.” Stiles argued. “That doesn’t mean you need to spend your free time tracking down the guy who tried to murder you.” 

“It will make me sleep better, and it’s …” Scott took a deep breath, because he knew this was going to cause difficulty with Stiles. “It’s the right thing to do. Theo needs to know.”

“You don’t owe Theo anything,” Stiles said firmly. “You’ve done more than enough for that sociopath. If he gets sick, he’s smart enough to find the right type of doctor on his own.” 

Scott frowned. Stiles had never spent much time near Theo after Liam had brought him back from whatever realm the Skin-walkers had put him in.

“He’s made an effort to change. He helped when he could have ran. That deserves some consideration.”

“Good behavior that has to be purchased is not actually a sign of growth as a human being.” Stiles leaned back on the couch, satisfied with that pronouncement. “You know how much that guy bugs me.” 

“I know. You also know how much of a bleeding heart I am.” 

The scowl that had almost disappeared from Stiles’ face returned in full force. “I do. It’s going to get you killed, even as it’s ruined your life.” He pushed himself up off the couch. “But since I’ve been a beneficiary of your bleeding heart, and I already opened my mouth and stuck my foot in it by promising help, let’s get this over with.” 

Scott felt a stab of guilt. He’d ruined their evening. “You don’t have to start on this tonight, Stiles.” 

“I don’t need to start. I already know where Theo is.” Stiles muttered to himself. “As if I’d lose track of that fucker.” Stiles went down the hallway where the bedrooms were. He made sufficient money to rent a three-bedroom apartment in a nice part of San Francisco. Those weren’t cheap. Scott always thought that he had chosen such a large place to live because of when Claudia would be able to come visit him. 

Scott followed him down the hallway and was surprised that one of the doors had been seriously changed since the last time he was there. It had a keyed deadbolt and a built-in combination lock. It was like something that you’d find in a high-security area, not on a spare bedroom. “What is this?”

The guest bedroom was no longer a guest bedroom. It was a work room? A nerve center? A sanctum? Three of the walls had been covered with gigantic whiteboards. Below them were tables with trays for material to be processed and sorted and filing cabinets to store older data. In the center of the room was a top-of-the-line computer set up. 

Scott studied the walls. There was one with people he recognized as being enemies. There was one filled with people he didn’t recognize. And there was one covered with pictures and notations about the pack and its allies. “Stiles, what is this?” 

Stiles turned his head around as he headed toward the enemies board. Theo’s picture was there. “Oh. Someone has to keep track of all this stuff.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Scott’s eyes traveled to the pack’s board. He had notations across it. They were … extensive.

“What makes you think I’ve ever stopped doing it?” Stiles shrugged eloquently. 

Scott closed his eyes for a moment. He counted backwards, silently, down from ten. “To this extent?”

Stiles sat down and pulled up the computer. “Don’t worry. I’ve got all of this in hard copy just in case I get hacked and have to crash the system.” He started looking through files. “Look, if you’re worried about security I’m not going to let the Bureau see this stuff and I certainly don’t want our enemies to see this stuff. That’s why I don’t tell anyone about it. If our enemies catch me and can get me to talk then they don’t need this material.”

Scott walked around the rooms looking more closely. “There are people’s names here. People’s addresses. People’s phone numbers. Their places of employment.”

“Well, duh. You can’t keep track of people if you don’t have basic information on them.”

Scott closed his eyes. “Dude …”

“Here we go. Theo Raeken is living on State Road 54 about three miles north of Van Horn, Texas. He works as a security guard for Blue Origin.” 

“Blue … Origin?” Scott had never heard of it.

“It’s a spaceflight company created by the owner of Amazon.” Stiles chuckled to himself. “No, you don’t have to worry about chimeras in space. He’s working on one of the secured gated entrances. You know, those gates in the movies where the guards either get shot or fooled. I suppose that Theo might be better at it than most security guards, so Bezos will be happy for that.”

“How … how do you know all this?”

“I have access to databases in my work and there are slow days at the office. I discovered his social security number years ago.” Stiles shrugged. 

Scott tried to keep whatever it was he was feeling off his face. While Stiles double checked the information, Scott focused on the allies’ board. He found his name. All the information was current and up to date. He found Lydia’s name, and it was the same, but there was a number that he didn’t recognize.

“Whose number is this?” Scott asked tapping the board with his finger. 

“Uh.” Stiles said as he craned his neck. Scott heard his heartbeat skyrocket. “Just a contact’s.” 

“A contact?” Scott asked with a growing sense of dread. “In Massachusetts? Listed under Lydia’s name?”

Stiles grunted an assent. 

“So who would answer if I called this number?” Scott tried for the third and last time. 

Stiles simply pretended he didn’t hear. Scott left the room and went to the kitchen. He knew where it was, and he knew what he would find there. 

He dug out one of those artisanal beers that Stiles had bought for him. He sorted through the myriad bottles to find one that he knew Stiles would like, fished some club soda out of the refrigerator, and poured Stiles a whiskey and soda.

There was no easy way to put this. Stiles drank a lot. He didn’t drink to the point of falling down drunk and he didn’t drink so much that it interfered with his work but Scott had long since known that he had at least one drink a night. Stiles liked to call himself a high-functioning alcoholic. He probably was, but Scott didn’t like the way he seemed to wear it as a badge of honor.

Lydia had told him that this habit had begun right after he had finished at the academy. He had been stressed and lonely at his posting, so he started taking the edge off with alcohol.

Stiles came into the kitchen with a folder. “I’ve downloaded a digital copy to your phone.” 

“Thank you.” Scott handed him his mixed drink. 

“I don’t know why you think you need to go talk to Theo. I meant it when I said you don’t owe him anything.” Stiles handed him the folder.

“That’s right. I don’t owe him anything. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated to do so. I’m doing this because … well, because … because what I chose to do with my life only means something if I keep doing it.” 

Stiles looked at him for a moment. “What?”

“How many times have I asked my pack and our allies – including Theo -- to risk their lives for strangers when fighting Monroe’s people?” 

“A lot.” Stiles shrugged. “You didn’t force us. You never forced us.” 

“But still, I risked their lives for strangers because I knew what it would feel like to be hunted. I knew what it would feel like to be scared and running for their lives. This is the same thing. Theo may not know that’s he sick. He may not know what’s happening. No matter what he’s done, I know what it feel like to have something affect your life and not have any understanding of it.”

“Scott, you can’t save everyone …”

“Says the FBI agent with three commendations for ‘conspicuous bravery.’”

“Touché.” Stiles mimed the hit. “I’ve already sent a digital version to your account. You shouldn’t have any trouble finding him.”

“Thank you, Stiles.” He took a drink from his beer. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but …”

“Everything after the ‘but’ is horseshit.”

“Stop quoting Game of Thrones to me.” 

“I will never stop quoting Ned Stark, dude.”

“Stiles. This is serious.” Scott felt the mantle of command slip back over him like an old coat. He should shut his mouth, go out into the living room, and get Stiles to put in the newest game for the PlayStation 6. He didn’t need to do this, but his conscience pricked at him. He’d ignored the obvious problems with Stiles. They hadn’t talked about why he had moved back to California. They hadn’t talked about Lydia.

“What’s serious?” Stiles was still ignoring the problem until went away.

“You’re spying on the pack.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I don’t think keeping tabs counts as spying. I can’t protect any of you if I don’t know what’s happening.”

Scott put his beer on the counter. “Do you understand why I might be a little freaked out by what I just saw? It looks like you’ve spent more time ‘keeping tabs on’ your friends than actually spending time with your friends.”

“I can’t help what I feel.” Stiles started to back away subconsciously. “Any more than you can fucking relax, Jesus Christ.” 

“You can’t help what you feel, but you can stop yourself from acting on it. You can talk to someone …”

“Like you talk to people about your problems, Mr. I-Don’t-Deserve-a-Life McCall?” Stiles was angry, but he wasn’t retreating any longer. He must have sensed that this was going to happen no matter what. 

“What’s the number next to Lydia’s name?”

They locked eyes. Scott hoped Stiles saw not an angry alpha but a determined alpha. Stiles had to answer. “It’s our next-door neighbors.”

“God. It’s _her_ next-door neighbors.” Scott shook his head. “Why do you have _Lydia's_ next-door neighbor’s phone number?”

“My daughter lives there!” Stiles exclaimed. 

“That doesn’t make any sense. If there was a problem, Lydia would call you. Spill it, Stiles. We talked about honesty.”

Stiles frowned and fidgeted. “I pay the teenage son to call me if Lydia screams.” 

“That doesn’t explain why you have their number on your board.” 

“Because sometimes I like to check in with them to make sure everything’s okay. I don’t keep the number in my phone in case I lend it to someone who might recognize. I didn’t realize you would notice it on the board.”

“You’re spying on her.” Scott knew he sounded like he was judging Stiles. Because he was. 

“I’m watching out for her!” Stiles snapped, defensively.

Scott let a current of anger run through his voice. Lydia was his friend, too. “This is why she divorced you, Stiles. You know, when we hang out and you get drunk – which has been every time we hang out since you came back to California – you keep asking me why. I keep telling you why, but you don’t seem to remember what I say.”

“I remember.” Stiles gritted. 

“Then what do I need to say to get you to understand that this type of behavior is exactly what tore you two apart?

“I don’t see any correlation.” Stiles turned away as if to walk away, but then suddenly drained his entire drink in one gulp and tossed the glass into the sink where it shattered. “She divorced me because I’m selfish. She divorced me because I’m a coward. She divorced me because I was a bad husband and a bad father. I know the reason; why can’t anyone understand that?”

“You don’t get it. You say you’re selfish and you say you’re a coward; but only half of that is true.” Scott sighed in frustration. He couldn’t think of the words to make him understand. “It’s you, Stiles. It’s always you.” 

Stiles blanched and nearly dropped his glass. Scott hadn’t thought that what he said was particularly mean, but somehow he had struck a nerve.

“I don’t believe you’re a bad person. Lydia doesn’t believe you’re a bad person. I don’t think any single one of our friends think you’re a bad person. But that doesn’t matter, does it! You feel like a bad person, and that’s the only thing that matters. Because, if you’re a bad person, you can get away with doing shit like this.”

Scott went into the cupboards and poured out another glass. He didn’t know why he did it. “It’s always you -- what you feel is more important than anything else going on. You can spy on your friends because you feel that you have to protect them. It doesn’t matter that it’s creepy and invasive. Because your feelings give you the right to do things that no one else gets to do. You listen in on phone calls, you read mail, you hack e-mail accounts, you micromanage people’s diets, you spy on your ex-wife, because you _feel_ that you have to.”

Stiles was breathing heavily. He was angry, but Scott could tell it was not direct at him. “Well, fuck me for wanting to make sure the people I love are safe!”

“Yes.” Scott said it with a firm determination. “Fuck you.”

That brought Stiles up short. 

“You were strangling her. She told me this. When you were first married, the attention was flattering. She admitted it fed her ego to have someone so consumed with her well-being. She also thought, that as you two grew older, you would adjust. You’d learn to trust her judgement and her ability to look after herself. But you didn’t. You got worse. And then she had Claudia and you went nuts.” He poured Stiles another drink. 

Stiles’ eyes were blazing. His brow furrowed.

“Don’t look at me like that. She told me how you bugged the nursery. She told me how she would find you standing in the room in the middle of the night for hours watching over your daughter. She told me that she knew it was over when she couldn’t wait for you to have a business trip so she could _breathe._ ”

The fire went out of Stiles’ eyes. He started pleading. “You know what’s out there. You know all the ways that someone could take them from me. And you don’t even know about the human scum that slither about the world. I can’t change who I am; if I see something, I have to do something.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t bear to lose them. Either of them.”

“But you have lost them, Stiles.” Scott sighed. It was cruel of him to say. He held a beer in one hand and the whiskey and soda in the other. “Lydia had to choose between keeping you happy and keeping herself happy. You couldn’t change, and that’s something I’m going to have to carry for the rest of my life.”

Stiles lifted his arms in confusion and squinted. “What the hell? You have to carry it?”

“I’m your best friend. I’ve been your best friend for your entire life. And I let you cross the line with me, time and time and time again. The line between love and possession. I let you take your emotions out on me even when it was unfair of you to do that. When it hurt. And I never said anything. And by never saying anything, I let you think that if someone loved you, they’d let you do that.” Scott extended the glass to Stiles. He didn’t take it.

“Remember the first Friday after I was bit? Remember when you, and only you, knew what I was and what I could do? Remember even after I told you that I was angry, you started digging into my backpack to cancel my date with Allison.” 

Stiles looked ashamed. “That was …”

“I’m not bringing this up to punish you, but you did stuff like that all the time. You seem to think that if you cared for someone, that’s the only thing that matters, so you’d steal my phone or stand up to angry werewolves or beat me up. I let you do that because you were upset, even when I understood that it was dangerous. I let you think it was okay for you to do things like that if you were upset enough. And I …”

Stiles slammed his hand down on the island in the kitchen so hard the plates rattled. “Okay. You can stop right there. You aren’t responsible for my actions. Okay, so maybe I do get carried away. If I do, that’s on me. Maybe I did ruin my marriage with Lydia. If I did, that’s on me. You, on the other hand, have to fucking stop this perfect alpha shit.”

“I’m hardly ...” 

Stiles sneered. “No, you’re not. You’re not supposed to be, but try to tell Martyr McCall it’s not his fault! You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You think I don’t know that you …" He hiccupped. “You son of a bitch. Standing there offering me absolution, because you think you failed me. You … fucking dumbass.”

Stiles lunged at Scott. Scott didn’t move, but the blow didn’t come. Stiles snatched the drink out of his hand and threw it at the cabinets. The glass shattered, spreading glass as the alcohol ran down the sides. 

Stiles stared at it and then got a paper towel and started cleaning it up with his back to Scott. “We’re so fucked up.” He let out a soft sob. 

Scott didn’t know what to say, so he reached over and grabbed him by the shoulders. He pulled him into a hug. He could feel the water build up at the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let himself cry. “Maybe we are.”

“It was years … it’s been years. I thought we’d get better. We were supposed to get better.” Stiles rubbed his face. “But we’re not going to get better, are we?”

Scott didn’t answer, which was an answer. He felt it down in his gut; they weren’t going to get better.

“Do you mind … do you mind if I just cry a little bit.”

Scott shook his head. He just sort of sat down, bringing Stiles to sit on the floor of the kitchen with the broken glass and the spilled whiskey. 

Stiles whispered to him. “I do. I spy on them. Because I miss them. I miss them so much, and I ruined it.” 

They spent a half-hour on the floor the kitchen. Then Scott got more drinks and got both of them into the living room. The couch is comfortable, and they watched bad television until they fell asleep next to each other as they used to do when they were children.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a trip across the American West, Scott takes some time out to think about the women he's loved.

The wheels of the car made a deep humming noise against the rough concrete of the highway. It was strangely relaxing to Scott, partially because of how normal it seemed. A million cars, trucks, and busses had passed over this highway in exactly the same way that his car was passing over it. 

Scott crossed the border between Arizona and New Mexico about an hour after sunrise; the sky was clear in front of him and there were only wispy clouds in his rear-view mirror. He passed a few other vehicles on U.S. 64 which was common for this time of year and this time of the morning. All around the highway, the desert spread out in front of him, dead and unwelcoming. He knew, intellectually, that it really wasn’t dead. He had learned that by spending time in deserts like this one over the years. He knew that life was there, but it was hidden. Waiting. 

Scott had driven from San Francisco to Kayenta, Arizona in one sitting. When he had finally pulled over in the tiny town, he had been exhausted. Alpha werewolf or not, thirteen and a half hours alone in a Prius was going to drain anyone. On the positive side, the motel had been had been surprisingly well kept. The bed had been really, really comfortable, something he wouldn’t have expected in a town that strained to see its population reach five hundred.

Blindly groping with one hand, he searched through the radio stations to find some music. Due to this trip, he now had a thorough categorical knowledge of radio stations throughout California and Arizona. Learning that had been an unplanned necessity, as he had forgotten his phone at Stiles’ apartment.

Scott was suspicious of himself. He supposed he could have done it by accident, but it was not like he had been in a rush when he had left. He had had time for Stiles to cook breakfast. He was pretty sure that while he hadn’t planned to leave it, he had to have done it on purpose, and he wasn’t sure why he would have made that subconscious choice. Maybe he wanted to be out of contact from everyone for a while. He certainly had enough reason to avoid his mother and Derek. Maybe he wanted to have an excuse to visit Stiles on the way back. The night before had been productive as catharsis often was, but it might be nice to hang with his best friend without one of them bursting into tears.

Stiles had been right in the most uncomfortable way a person could be right. He had spoken a truth that couldn’t be denied any longer, even by Scott, and that truth, coupled with the concern of his mother and friends, was angling to be an enormous pain in his ass.

They were supposed to have gotten better, and they hadn’t. Though, in all fairness to the rest of humanity, no one had actually told them that they were supposed to get better. Scott and Stiles had assumed that as they grew up all the nightmares would fade. They had assumed that one day, they would become just like everyone else; that the torture, possession, sleep-wrecking horror, guilt and depression would simply _go away._

It hadn’t worked out that way. 

Scott had watched it not work out for Stiles and Lydia. Scott had believed at the end of high school that the long path that his two closest friends had started down since the third grade would lead to a happy ending. He had wanted it to be a happy ending. Maybe he had become too invested in that future.

Scott had been there when it started, when Stiles had hatched his slightly creepy ‘ten-year plan’ to win Lydia’s affections. And maybe it had been more than slightly creepy, but it did not matter where it had started, it only mattered where it ended. He had watched Stiles learn to appreciate Lydia for who Lydia was, not who he imagined her to be, at the same Stiles had learned to do the same with all the people he loved. He had watched Stiles learn to stop trying to earn Lydia’s love, because that’s not how love worked.

As he grew up, Stiles had stopped trying to win her, instead he had chosen to become her friend. Unsurprisingly, they made an excellent team. Stiles’ deductive capabilities and knowledge of law enforcement married to Lydia’s crystal-sharp mind and her Banshee abilities had aided the pack, had aided Scott, on more than one occasion. And in that time of working together, Scott was sure that Lydia had come to see Stiles the way he saw Stiles. It was no surprise to the alpha when that friendship turned to love. Scott remembered how good _he_ felt when he realized they were in love; he couldn’t imagine how good _they_ felt. 

But, as it turned out, love wasn’t enough. And wasn’t that a kick in the balls?

They had gotten married after Lydia had completed her doctorate. Stiles had confessed that even the relatively short distance between Virginia and Massachusetts had been stressful on both of them, and they decided that they needed to affirm their commitment. Scott, of course, had been Best Man; Malia had been the Maid of Honor, and they had both been mature enough not to make the wedding party uncomfortable. Lydia had planned the affair out with her usual skill and taste; it had been a ceremony grander than anything in a magazine. Scott had spent the night pretending that watching their happiness while Malia avoided him didn’t feel like getting punched repeatedly. 

Six years later, Claudia had been born. As he held the bundle of preciousness in the hospital, he felt like Stiles had stabbed him in the stomach again, only this time in a good way.

Scott didn’t realize how much of a bad friend he had become until much later. He hadn’t seen the cracks in the marriage. He hadn’t heard the lies when Stiles told him everything was ‘fine’ and ‘great.’ He hadn’t seen the brittleness in Lydia’s smiles. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to. Maybe he wanted to think that his friends were living happy lives while he was off defeating those who would hurt them.

There was love in the marriage. Scott felt it. They all felt it. But he hadn’t really understood what was rotting beneath the love until Lydia and he had had a long talk. She wasn’t ever going to be controlled again, Lydia had explained. Not by anyone, not even the man she loved. And Stiles – well, Stiles had always had trouble separating devotion from possession. So, they had loved each other fiercely while tearing each other apart. 

Lydia had admitted to him that she had hoped being a father would have made Stiles more like his own father, Noah. Instead, it had made him worse. His paranoid obsession with Theo at the beginning of senior year looked like neglect compared to the extremes he had went to once his daughter was born. Claudia wasn’t the answer to their problems; it was the storm that broke the dam.

Scott couldn’t even pick up the pieces for them. In the end, he didn’t even try; it wasn’t like he had any better skills when it came to romantic love.

After all, he had stopped loving Allison years ago. 

He wasn’t exactly sure when it had happened, when he stopped wishing for the laws of the universe to unravel themselves and for her to be alive again. He wasn’t sure when he stopped hoping for a surprise villain with an ancient and secret form of magic to try to use a resurrected Allison against him. He still felt the pain of her death; he still felt the guilt of her death. He still could visit the grave and talk to her. But he did not ache for her. He didn’t dream about her. Nor did he feel particularly bad that he didn’t.

When he had been in high school, he’d heard people talk and read articles on the internet about how overwhelmingly romantic that character from the Harry Potter books and movies had been – Severus Snape. He hadn’t actually read the books and the movies hadn’t interested him much once real magic had fully inserted itself into his life, so he had to be reminded about the relationship between Snape and the hero’s mother, Lily. Many people’s reactions to that relationship confused him for a long time. Eventually, in the light of what had actually happened to him, it began to irritate him. Lily and Snape had had a relationship, but when Lily died she had been with James. Snape’s obsession, his declaration of “Always,” struck Scott as both selfish and a form of self-torture. How many people’s lives – including his own – could Snape have made brighter if he had simply moved on? 

Allison wasn’t someone he was in love with any more. She was someone whose memory inspired him. She was someone whose memory he cherished. Sometimes, she made him gently sad. When he remembered particular nights from sophomore year, she could even make him horny. But she was only a memory.

It did not diminish her legacy. Her revision of the Code had spread through the established families, dividing the traditional hunting clans into those who accepted it, led by Chris, and those who clung to the old Code, led by Severo Calavera after Araya had passed. As Scott had dismantled Monroe’s crusade, those who had not given up hunting had joined one side or the other. Scott preferred this. Monroe’s crusade had had passion but no Code. Even now, Allison’s work made people safe. 

When it came to a lasting memorial, it was better than his feeble love.

That was a sharp-edged truth, wasn’t it? Allison and he hadn’t been together when she died, and that hadn’t been her fault. The breakup had been his fault, because he hadn’t been strong enough to accept her as she wanted to be. She didn’t want to need protecting; she wanted to protect him. 

Scott had made a habit of messing up relationships. He didn’t think he did it maliciously, but he had to admit that he had had three chances at the real thing, and none of them had worked out in his favor. There was no way to dodge the reality that he was mostly responsible for those failures.

He didn’t want to think of Malia. Of the three, he had spent the longest with her, and yet he had so obviously missed the signs of the coming end. To be fair to himself, it had been far gentler than the other two. There had been no manipulative grandfathers or scary desert-dwelling demigods. The only thing that had gotten in the way had been life.

It had been a morning almost exactly like this one in a motel in a desert very similar to the one outside his car windows. Scott had expected to wake up with Malia wrapped around him. She still preferred to be the big spoon. One of the benefits of being a fully grown adult was that he no longer had to be worried about being discovered by anyone’s parents – not even his own. In fact, the few times that they had visited his mom, she had assumed they were going to be sleeping together. 

It sure beat Victoria Argent’s pencil-sharpener response. 

That particular morning, he had woken up alone in the motel’s bed. The sheets had been thin and he had been cold, shivering. He had rolled over, and he had seen Malia, fully dressed and standing by the wobbly dresser. “Hey,” he had called, sleepily.

Malia hadn’t answered but instead had turned away from the dresser and had sat down on the bed by him. She was fully dressed. 

“You’re up early.” He had given her a smile, but she hadn’t returned it. 

“Yeah.” 

“Is there something the matter?” He had pulled himself upright on the bed, bringing the sheets to cover him. Something had been wrong, and it had not seemed like a good idea to have this discussion while naked. 

“What day is today?” She had asked him. 

His smile had returned. “It’s your birthday. Your twenty-second birthday. Did you think I forgot it?” Scott had not forgotten it. He had actually made reservations for a really, really fancy restaurant in Las Vegas. He had gotten tickets for the Cirque Du Soleil as well. 

“Yeah.” She had shaken her head. “Where did we wake up last year?” 

“Virginia.” His smile had faltered. “I think it was Falmouth.”

“And the year before that?”

“The dungeon in Idaho.” He had not liked where this conversation was going. “What’s the matter, Lia?”

“I’m leaving.” She had said it like she had said everything, as if she was unable to deceive and unwilling to sugarcoat her own decision. 

“What?” Scott hadn’t been very eloquent. He had reached out for Malia and she had pulled away, shaking her head once again.

“This is the third year in a row where I haven’t seen my father on my birthday. We haven’t spent more than two months in the same place since Monroe started her bullshit. I’ve still never been to France.” Malia still had not sounded angry. She had sounded more sad than anything.

Scott had felt panic rise in his chest. “You’ve been to France; we were at De Gaulle for a layover.” The joke hadn’t landed well at all. “I’m sorry, Lia, we …” He had swallowed. “We can …”

“No, we can’t. You can’t tell me that if I asked you to, you would walk away from this. And if you did, you’d go back home and you’d pretend it didn’t bother you. And I know it would bother you.”

“I could,” Scott had protested, but he hadn’t really meant it, had he? “I could give this up.”

“That’s not who you are, Scott. You think you’re responsible for everyone out there, and you think you’re responsible for Monroe being who she is, and you’ll think about every single person who dies to her army while you’re at home with me.” Malia had shaken her head. “It is who you are, and I don’t want you to change. I love who you are. I love how you care. I love your bravery. I love that little squat you do when people are upset, and you want them to talk to you.”

Scott wished he could go back and stop the next words from coming out of his mouth. “But you don’t love me enough to stay.”

“No.” Malia had never believed in lies. “I don’t love you enough to stay. I want more.” 

Malia had leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t chaste. It wasn’t a cop out. It was a real kiss, with passion and intensity. They had kissed like this a thousand times. This one tasted of salt and good bye. 

“So, you can’t be sad, okay?” She had demanded. “Be happy for me. I’m going to do the things that I always wanted to do. I’m going to spend time with my Dad. I’m going to get a job. I’m going to go to France – really go to France and eat croissants and take a thousand pictures of museums and towers.”

“But not with me.” Scott had almost thrown up at that. But he hadn’t.

“No. Not with you. I spent eight years as a coyote out of guilt, Scott. I’m not going to spend eight years as a soldier out of love.”

She had stood up then and went back to the cabinet. She had packed while he was asleep. He had clutched at the covers of the bed, thinking of begging, thinking of anything he could do that would get her to stay. But he knew that he shouldn’t. Even eleven years later, he still believed that had been the right choice.

“Take care of yourself.” Malia had said over her shoulder as she had left the motel room.

Scott looked over at the desert as it sped past his window. The worst part of the break-up with Malia had been that she wasn’t wrong. He would have been hard pressed to abandon the struggle against Monroe’s crusade. He would have felt guilty if people had kept dying if he had been sitting at home and living. That’s why he hadn’t even hooked up with someone again until the crusade had been defeated and even then it was half-hearted.

He knew why he was occupied with the past now. He knew why he was heading to where he was heading. Talking with Stiles, understanding how badly his best friend had left things with his wife, had gotten him thinking about things he had left undone. Allison was gone; he couldn’t do anything more than honor her memory. Malia had left him; he had had his chance with her and blown it. But Kira was still out there. Or, more precisely, she was still out there, somewhere. 

The only clue he had was Shiprock. He had gone there with Stiles and rescued her and her mother. Once she had rejoined the Skin-walkers, perhaps they had gone back there. Perhaps he could find her there. 

He hadn’t tried before now, and he was ashamed that he hadn’t. He could tell himself that he had been following Noshiko’s advice about the Skin-walkers. Kira’s mother had suggested that his best course of action was simply to be patient. Kira would be able to leave them only when her training was completed and not before, and none of the people truly involved were short-lived. 

But that was the point, wasn’t it? Back in high school, he had assumed that she’d be gone for a couple of months. A couple had stretched into ten, and before he knew it, more terrible things had happened, then he had gotten with Malia, and slowly he had let Kira fade from his mind. 

Scott justified it by telling himself that Kira was better off without him. After all, the only reason that she was experimented on by the Dread Doctors was because she was part of his pack. It was better for her to go into the desert and find inner balance; at least she wasn’t dead. 

When he thought about it later, he knew that it wasn’t the true reason. She had wanted to be with him, and he had wanted to be with her, but he had been scared of what had been happening with her fox spirit. What if she changed too much? So, instead of confronting his fears of what Kira might become – that she might become someone who didn’t want him or didn’t need him like Allison had no longer wanted him or needed him – he had let circumstances remove the decision from his hands. 

It was like he had learned nothing from the disaster of the fall of senior year. You can’t help people if you aren’t honest with them. You can’t help people if you aren’t honest with yourself. He had witnessed the night before last with Stiles how old habits could wreck beautiful things. Scott needed to be better; he needed to try to talk to Kira. He needed to do it now, even fifteen years later, which was why he pulled off the highway and on the dirt road to the Skin-walkers’ lair.

Scott pulled up before the unique rock formation. He was pretty sure that this was the one where he had confronted them before. He couldn’t be absolutely sure. The Yukimura’s Toyota had long been reclaimed by the family. 

He walked over the dry, dusty ground and the sun-bleached rocks. It was pretty enough, he guessed, but he couldn’t imagine living out here with no trees, no buildings, and no people. It seemed so terribly lonely. 

There was no answer to Scott’s presence but the gentle murmur of the wind among the rocks. He had reached the very base of the stone formation, yet no one had made their presence known. Maybe this was going to be a wasted trip. 

Scott shook his head. He was avoiding things again. He knew a way to get their attention. He lifted up his head and howled, the howl you use to call your pack members to you. Kira might still recognize it; she might still answer it.

As the last echoes of the howl died out among the rocks, the ground began to shake. Kira had told him when she came back from here how they had come up out of the ground. They had talked it over with Noshiko and Deaton, and he had told them that they really didn’t live under the ground. The earth was their medium when they chose to exit the dimension in which they existed. 

Scott hoped they didn’t remember him attacking last time, or if they did, they weren’t the type to hold grudges. As the three women emerged from the ground, he struggled to place their scent. They had traces of humanity but mostly they were ash and leather and paint and something else that he had never experienced before. He had no name for it. Perhaps it was the smell of the other world to which they belonged.

They watched him with something he assumed was cool disregard. 

“I’d like to talk to Kira, please.” Scott pitched his voice to be confident yet polite. He wasn’t going to beg; he was an alpha.

The trio did not answer him. They were studying him with narrowed eyes, as one might study a dead skunk that had gotten smashed by a truck. Scott didn’t fidget; that wouldn’t be good. Minutes passed by and Scott thought about saying something else when they suddenly turned and walked away. 

“Okay.” Scott didn’t know what to do now. 

“Hello.” Kira’s voice whispered directly behind him. He hadn’t heard her, which was a shock. He whirled around and the world stopped between the beats of his heart. There she was. It was almost too much to process. 

The first thing he noticed is that she hadn’t aged a day. He had aged, maybe not as quickly and as thoroughly as a human would, but he didn’t look like a teenager anymore. She, on the other hand, looked as young as when he had said good bye to her in this very spot fifteen years before.

The second thing he noticed were her feet. She wasn’t wearing any shoes. She was standing in the desert, and while it might not have been the hottest part of the day, the rocks had to be uncomfortable. Her feet were a little dirty, but they were callused. They were tougher. It was a shock to him. 

The third thing he noticed was that she wasn’t dressed in leather like the Skin-walkers, and she wasn’t dressed in the clothes he had dropped her off in. She was dressed in what might have been a kimono. It was one of her mother’s that Scott had seen. He didn’t understand why she would have it or why she would wear it. Kira had never been big into traditional clothing. It had also seen better days, dirty and torn at the edges. 

The last thing he noticed was her scent. It smelled like her – her skin, her hair – but it also smelled like ozone. Like the sky after a thunderstorm. He’d caught bits of it before after she used her powers, but only in gusts. This was ingrained on her being; she must have made progress on blending her fox and herself. In addition, there was that same scent he couldn’t place on the Skin-walkers. 

Scott’s mouth fell open a tiny bit, and he swallowed/inhaled at the same time. It was dizzying to be near her again, to see her again. Dizzying and terrifying. “Hello.” No one ever said he was a poet.

Kira stepped forward and around him as if she was studying him. It was a strange thing for her to do, but it spoke to confidence. She had overcome at least some of her lack of confidence in herself.

Scott watched her as she circled him. “You look amazing.” He meant it. Yes, it was strange how she was dressed and that she didn’t look as if she had aged, but he hadn’t had a clear vision in his mind of what she was supposed to look like. It didn’t matter; her smile still made his heart clench.

“And you look old.” It felt like a slap in the face. He was older, and Scott hadn’t heard any scorn or shock in the voice, but it still felt wrong. “How long has it been?”

“Fifteen years.” Scott swallowed. “I … I’m sorry that I didn’t …”

“Oh, I don’t mind that.” She dismissed his apology. “It didn’t seem like fifteen years. It was hard to tell how much time was passing below.” She looked up at the sky. “The world doesn’t seem to have changed that much.”

“There’s been some changes.” Scott felt wistful. There was so much for her to catch up with. “How … how are you doing?”

Kira looked at him and turned her head to one side as if contemplating how to answer that. “That’s not what you want to ask, is it? That’s a question people ask each other when they really can’t ask what they want to ask.”

Scott bit his lip. She was playing with him, but he couldn’t tell if she was playing with him to put him at ease or playing with him simply to play with him. “What question do I want to ask?”

“You want to ask how are _we_ doing.” She skipped once and kicked up the dust of the desert. “And that’s a good question to ask, but it might not be the best question to answer.” 

Scott felt confused. “Are you alright?” This was not how he imagined this going.

Kira reached out and put a hand on his cheek. Scott felt it tingle, like when you got close to an electric fence or a high-tension power line. “I feel balanced. I feel strong. I feel powerful.” 

She wasn’t answering him directly. She was teasing him and playing with him but it wasn’t … light-hearted. Scott got the feeling that she was trying to tell him something without telling him directly. “Does that mean you can come back?”

“Yes. Do I want to come back?” Kira replied, lifting her hand off his cheek. 

“I hope you do.” She was being more enigmatic than Deaton on a bad day. “I hope you want to see your mom and dad. I hope … “ He marveled at his own hesitation. In a flash, he realize this is what his mom, Derek and Stiles had been getting at. He should want things. “I was hoping you wanted to see me.”

“You were hoping I wanted to see you?” Kira grew somber. “Which ‘I’ would that be?”

Scott reached out with one hand to take her by the shoulder and her eye cut to his hand. When they were together, he would do this without hesitation but the look in her eyes was one of wariness. The puzzle piece fell into place. 

“You don’t know me anymore. I don’t know you.” He said, aloud. 

“How could we know each other?” She answered. “Sand and wind and moons have passed between us.”

Scott finally understood. The confidence. The aloofness. The talking in riddles. She had either become more of a kitsune or more of a Skin-walker. What had he expected after fifteen years? She had changed, just as Allison had changed. As he had changed. “Do you want to know me?”

“We should go on dates!” She laughed and it was a slightly sarcastic laugh. He was very familiar with that. “The doctor and the teenager.” 

Scott let his shoulders sag. He hadn’t even thought of that. She was as old as he was, but she looked like a teenager. She probably could change her shape into someone older, but it would not feel right to ask her to do it. 

Scott rubbed at his eyes. Kira looked at him like you’d look at a puppy in a pet cone, amusement and sadness mixed together. “Do you want me to … do you want me to bring you your tail?” 

Kira pursed her lips as she thought about it. “There is no safer place than in your care.” She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Until later, alpha.” 

Before Scott could think to answer, she was gone in a billowing cloud of dust that came up out of nowhere. It was certainly dramatic enough. He hadn’t even got to touch her. 

Scott made his way back to the car, slowly. He glanced at his watch as he did so. It had taken less than a half-hour to put an end to that story. She was so different now, wild and strange. It should have made him mad, but it didn’t. After all, why did he expect that she would be unchanged? Why did he think that she would have been as eager to see him as he was to see her? It was his fault, after all, that she had had to go into the desert in the first place. The Dread Doctors had only come after her because she was in his pack.

He sat down behind the wheel of the car. He had let her go when she had asked him to and she had become this. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? Life was never all good or all bad, and while it seemed she was no longer the person he knew, she was alive and she was in control of herself. She wasn’t going to be consumed by the fox spirit. She had centuries in front of her to become anything she wanted to be. It was a good trade.

Scott only cried for forty-five minutes before he started the car and went back to the highway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott tracks Theo down to his home in Texas.

Scott reached Van Horn, Texas, a little after six in the evening. The town was less than a tenth of the size of Beacon Hills. His first impression was that the town was very … flat. That wasn’t an insult; it made the city feel open and without guile. The sky as he crossed the city limits was the color of a dried orange as the sun died in the west; the lights on the main drag began to flicker on. Scott had been all over the world in the last fifteen years, but he always found that each place had its own unique charm.

He pulled over in front of a chain motel. Part of him wanted to get a room, a shower, and some dinner right away, but the other part of him wanted to go directly to Theo’s home, even though Scott hadn’t called Theo yet to let him know he was coming. He had meant to do it on the road but then he had left his phone in San Francisco. There had been other opportunities, but in the end he had chosen not to make the effort. It had been a rather selfish decision. If he had called and Theo had refused to see him, he would have to end up sharing the terrible news over the phone. That struck Scott as cruel and wrong. It would also have made the trip unnecessary. As emotional draining as it had been, he was still glad that he managed to get out of Beacon Hills for at least a few days. 

Still, there was no way it wasn’t going to be rude when he did arrive. You didn’t just show up at someone’s home unannounced. 

He finally decided to go straight to Theo’s address. If he spent any more time thinking about how to share the news of Theo’s possible demise, he was going to work himself into knots. He was already overthinking it.

Scott left the main drag of Van Horn and headed north. It wouldn’t be far, because the town spread out on an east-west axis. As the cityscape changed, he stared quizzically at the GPS, double-checking it, because it started leading him into what was obviously an industrial area of the city. The neighborhoods where families and children played in their yards were in a different direction. The buildings he was being led towards were where people worked. 

But soon, even the industrial buildings were left behind. On the northern outskirts of the city, Scott reached a small cluster of homes. He could tell, even in the gathering twilight, that half of the buildings were empty from their state of disrepair. The place must have been a failed attempt to create a new neighborhood. From the style of the houses and the number cracks in the pavement, he estimated that it was probably founded in the 70s. 

Theo’s home was one of those strange houses that seem to have been built using two different blueprints. One part of the house was built on ground level with an attached sunken garage, but the other part of the house had been built on top of the garage. It must have been an addition because it didn’t quite fit, squatting morosely on the garage’s roof like it was waiting to slide off. The entire house had been remodeled with slap-dash siding, cheap stuff that tended to peel off in fierce rainstorms. Not that Van Horn got much rain as the scraggly ill-kept grass in the yard indicated. 

It was a broken-down house in a broken-down neighborhood.

Scott parked in the driveway of an abandoned house a few blocks away. The instinct to do that was a needless holdover from the long war; both supernaturals and hunters were spooked when a strange car pulled up in their driveway. But it also gave him a chance to let his senses spread out across the neighborhood as he walked towards this destination. Sight could tell you a lot, but it couldn’t tell you everything.

His other senses told him that this corner of Van Horn was lonely and abandoned. He could easily smell the distant fumes from the nearby factories. He could smell the exhaust of automobiles but only enough to learn that this place didn’t see much traffic. As he walked down the street, he could hear three separate television sets and a single radio, but no conversations. 

He finally reached Theo’s home. Twilight had colored the sky into a fresh bruise. He knew it was creepy, but he walked a circuit of the house. It was just as shabby close up as it had been from his car, but when he gave himself the chance to look closer, he could see little touches that separated it from the other houses. There was a stand of mint by the back porch. The grass was thin and scraggly, but it had been mowed throughout the summer.

Carefully, he approached the front door. It looked like a normal wooden door; it wasn’t a security door and it didn’t even have a peephole. He also didn’t feel the presence of any mountain ash. Scott had been sure that Theo would take some precautions just in case he received unpleasant supernatural visitors. 

When Scott raised his hand to knock, he hesitated, even though he didn’t quite understand why. This was the reason he came, wasn’t it?

He pushed himself to give three sharp raps. Scott listened carefully for the sound of movement in the house. He heard footsteps, but there was no sound of a television, or a radio, or a video game. Maybe Theo had been napping. Maybe he had been cleaning up or getting changed. Scott waited patiently.

As Theo opened up the door, his face sort of collapsed in on itself.

“Oh.”

It was a heavy-sounding word and not exactly what Scott had been expecting. 

“Hey, Theo.” Scott offered him a small smile. “I’m sorry for stopping by without calling first.”

Theo looked very different than the last time Scott saw him. His hair was as long as it had been when he had lived in his truck but now it hung even more flat and lifeless. His face bore something between a full beard and a stubble. He was wearing sweatpants and what was obviously his work shirt. He must have gotten home not long before Scott arrived.

Theo put one hand on the door frame, blocking the entrance. His body language wasn’t hostile, but he obviously wasn’t about to ask Scott in. “What do you want?” 

Scott took a breath before the plunge. “We’ve got something to talk about. Would you mind if I came in? It’s going to take a while.”

Theo’s eye twitched; he hesitated and his forehead creased. His scent had that broken-lightbulb tang to it that all chimeras had but he also stank of frustration and sadness and sweat. After a very long minute, he stepped aside. “Come on in.”

Scott followed him up, offering another smile to reward him. It didn’t cost anything to smile. “Thank you.”

“I wasn’t expecting visitors.” Theo shrugged, trying to pass it off as if he didn’t mind. Scott didn’t understand why he would mind; the place wasn’t really a wreck. It was a little dusty, and there was a pair of work pants and shoes in the middle of the living room. Theo hurried to pick them up and took them to another room.

“No problem.” Scott did feel that the place was pretty bare. There was a single couch, a single recliner, a beat-up coffee table, and a high-end television on a stand. Scott had been in a few college-student apartments. It felt like a temporary living arrangement.

Theo came back out of the room, rubbing his hands together to burn off nervous energy. “Not that I care much, but how did you find me?” 

“Stiles.” 

Theo snorted. It was all the explanation he required. “Would you like something to drink?”

Scott nodded in response. “Sure.” As much as he had wanted to do this himself, he was suddenly unsure about how to get started. “Whatever you have.”

Theo disappeared into the kitchen and Scott made himself comfortable on the couch. This felt unreal. He had been all over the world and done all sorts of things that most humans wouldn’t even imagine, but he felt dislocated while sitting in Theo Raeken’s house. 

When the chimera returned he had two beers. They weren’t the type Scott liked, but he accepted his with a smile, as he was a guest. “I guess you like the taste of Heineken?”

“Well, no.” Theo answered quickly and then turned away. He went and sat down on the recliner, but he didn’t sit back on it. He perched on the arm but kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

Scott took a sip of it. “You don’t? I only find a few beers okay to drink for the taste alone.”

“The people at work talk about this beer all the time, so I got a case if anyone came over. I’ve actually not had it before.” Theo keep his eyes off of Scott.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.” You did things to make yourself seem normal.

There was a brief moment of incredibly awkward silence. Scott knew he had to break it; it would only be polite. 

“So I haven’t seen you since … Laramie. Man, that’s seven years ago. What have you been up to since then?”

Theo looked up from his study of the tacky carpet. For a moment he looked like he was going to chuckle, but then some emotion that Scott couldn’t decipher washed over his face. 

“You don’t have to make small talk if this is business. I’m a big boy, and we’re not friends.”

“I didn’t think we were friends. I thought we were allies.” Scott protested. “I’m not going through the motions. I really want to know what you’ve been up to.”

Theo studied him. “Working. I’ve been here for three years.” There was the faintest, slightest accusation in his tone.

“Why here?”

“It’s cheap. There was a job here.” Theo said as if it were no big deal. 

Scott remembered that during those few times they had worked directly together after Monroe’s crusade had begun, Theo hadn’t been in school. Scott had been reduced to taking online classes at the time. Had Theo ever gone to college? Had he ever finished high school? 

“I hope you’re enjoying it.” 

“Yeah,” Theo smirked. “It’s great.” 

Scott scratched at the back of his neck. Theo didn’t seem to _not_ want him here. His body language wasn’t aggressive. He hadn’t asked for him to leave. But Theo shut down every attempt to start a conversation, and then looked guilty about it. 

“Not that … not that I mind seeing you, but I … I’m curious as to why you came so far just to talk to me when there’s this invention called the telephone.”

“It wasn’t that far.” Scott protested. 

“It’s a two-day drive from Beacon Hills.” 

Scott chuckled; there was no way out of that. “How do you know I’m still there?”

“It’s your home,” Theo replied with a shadow of the calm certainty he expressed during senior year. “You’ll always end up there.”

“You’re right, but it doesn’t have the best memories.”

Theo snorted. “That’s something teenagers think. They believe memories are tied to a place and that you can get rid of them by leaving. Only they’re not tied to a place, they’re tied to you. You can fly to Australia to escape them, and you’ll discover that they’re all right there with you. I’ve seen the back of someone’s head and thought she was Tracy. I’ve gone to a restroom and suddenly I’d remember the tunnels beneath Eichen House. A place is just a place; it’s people who make memories both good and bad, and most of the people you care about are in Beacon Hills.”

“Fair enough.” Scott answered. He wouldn’t tell how much he wished all the people he cared about were in Beacon Hills, so he could see them every day and make sure they were okay.

“So?” Theo prodded.

Scott swallowed. He started his story at the beginning when Corey visited him in the animal clinic. He kept the explanation simple, avoiding complex medical terminology which was a way of covering up his discomfort. Alan had talked him through the first few times he had to tell an owner that their pet was dying. It was traumatic for them, and unless the vet was a stone-cold sociopath, it was traumatic for the doctor as well. It was easy to retreat into words with five syllables to give yourself a little distance. 

Theo, for his part, took the news with an eerie sort of calm. 

“Have you experienced any symptoms?” Scott asked. The chimera stared off into space for a minute or so. “Theo?”

“No. No, I’ve been completely fine.” Theo nodded in response. “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

“That’s great.” Scott gave him a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay. I mean … I’m not glad that it’s only Corey. I hope we can do something for him, but I still am glad you’re okay.”

“Are you?” Theo laughed.

“Of course. You don’t think I’d drive all the way down here if I didn’t care, do you?”

“Yes.” Theo laughed again, but this time it was bitterer. “You’d drive all the way down here to make sure I was okay because it would be the right thing to do, not because you actually cared.”

“Uh, Theo? Caring about you is the right thing to do.” Scott said softly. He was going to go on, but he didn’t want to get into a fight. “So, do you have any ideas?”

Theo stared at him. “About what?”

“About helping Corey.”

“Oh.” Theo glanced away and while Scott didn’t know what he was thinking about before, he could tell that Theo was legitimately working on the problem now. “All of the Operating Theaters in Beacon Hills were destroyed, right?”

“Yeah.” Scott nodded. “After Douglas, we didn’t want any other nostalgic surprises crawling out of the woodwork, so we made an effort to tear them down.”

Theo rubbed his chin. “The Doctors were always deliberate. They might have been terrifying sadists, but they were above all else, scientists. They planned things out to the smallest detail. If they were aware of the possibility of this … degeneration happening to Corey, then they would have written about it somewhere.”

“Shit. We burned everything.” Scott felt his heart plunge into his stomach. He had insisted that everything be destroyed. Was his lack of foresight going to kill Corey?

“There’s still a chance that information exists. They had Operating Theaters in other places than Beacon Hills. They’d have backup documents there.” 

“Really? Where!” This conversation had made it all worthwhile.

“Probably they’d be near active Nemetons. They needed that power for their research. The best place to check would be …” Theo laughed unpleasantly. “Oh, shit.” 

Scott tilted his head to the side, waiting patiently.

“There’s a Nemeton in Siberia near Logashkino. That’s where we were before we came back to Beacon Hills. That’d be the best place to check.”

“I heard the name from Deucalion, and I vaguely remember the map. That’s in Northern Siberia, isn’t it? On the Arctic Ocean.” 

“Yeah, on the East Siberian Sea at the mouth of the Alazeya River. But, you know, it’s October now.” He laughed. “This place won’t see the sun for months. Average high temperature is skating around four below zero right now.”

“That doesn’t matter. Do you have anything more specific? Maybe some coordinates?” Scott asked once again. He wasn’t quite begging, but he was pretty insistent. 

Theo stared at him in wonder. “Let me go get my laptop.” He stood up and went towards what Scott assumed was his bedroom.

Siberia was going to be difficult to do; Theo’s point was well made. Even if it hadn’t been a particularly inhospitable part of the country, Scott had struggled the last time he had been in Russia. He and Mr. Argent had remained in more populated areas, but even then it was difficult. There was a great deal of xenophobia in Russian culture and there was an entire language of which he didn’t speak a word. He’d have to find some way to navigate the rural areas successfully. Maybe he could hire a guide.

While Theo was away, Scott went to the small half-bath near the kitchen that he had unfortunately gotten a whiff of when he came in. He had been on the road for ten hours, after all. Even alpha werewolves had to use the toilet once in a while. As was common, he suppressed his sense of smell as much as he could reflexively. He had learned how to do that quite quickly when dealing with the locker room back at Beacon Hills High.

Because of that, it wasn’t until he was washing hands that he glanced down into the wastebasket that he made his discovery. It was sheer coincidence actually; usually, he didn’t even look around while drying his hands but something caught his eye. Grimacing, he bent down and poked at some of the wadded up tissue there. 

The silver substance caught the light immediately. Mercury. There were tissues soaked with it as if Theo had had a nosebleed. 

“He lied to me,” Scott breathed to the empty bathroom. “Why would he lie to me?” 

The mirror didn’t have an answer for him. There was only one person who could have an answer for him.

Theo had pulled up the coffee table to the recliner and was tapping through the pages when Scott came out of the bathroom. “I wondered where you went …” 

“You’re dying.” Scott didn’t know how else to put it. “And you know you’re dying. Why didn’t you want me to know?”

Theo stood up, his face transforming instantly from a pleasantly helpful face he had to one that was an emotionless mask. “Why were you snooping?”

“I wasn’t snooping. I was taking a piss.” 

Theo laughed once more as if he was hysterical. “I’m so out of practice. There was a time I could fool you without even meaning to.” 

“I grew up with Stiles, Theo. I know when someone’s trying to change the topic. Why did you do it? Why’d you try to conceal that it’s happening to you, too?”

“Maybe I don’t want your pity?”

Scott closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “God damn it, do you know how many times I’ve heard that in my life? _I don’t want your pity._ Do you even know what pity is? It's an emotion where someone recognizes your in trouble and wants to help you, but people have turned it into some kind of insult. That you can only really feel badly for people if you’re better than they are.”

“And you don’t think you’re better than I am?” Theo shot back. “Don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

“I’m saying that doesn’t matter. I don’t care if I’m better than you are or worse than you are. You’re dying, Theo. I want to help you … not die.”

“Of course you do. It doesn’t matter to you what happens after that, does it?”

Scott scrunched up his face. “What does that mean?” 

“You don’t want anyone to die, but you never realize that there are worse things to be than dead!” Theo was getting angry and defensive at the same time. 

Scott must have looked really stupid in an annoying way because whatever his face looked like, it made Theo angrier.

“I think you should leave.” The chimera demanded. “I’ll email you the information you need.”

“Theo …” Scott began. 

“I want you to leave.” Theo had turned away from him and sat back down. “There’s a motel on the main drag that doesn’t have any bedbugs and clean blankets.”

Scott didn’t understand how he suddenly had become the one on the defensive. He was doing the right thing. He was trying to help Theo, and now he felt like he was the bullying intruder. He wanted … he had come here to warn Theo and to help him if he could. 

“Theo, if you change your mind …”

“I won’t.” He said shortly, without looking up. 

Scott backed away and headed toward the door. Theo had given him a lead and it was better than nothing, but this ending was the exact opposite of what he wanted. 

Scott left the house and walked down the path towards the street. The sun had completely set and the stars had emerged into the velvet sky. A gust of wind blew down the dilapidated street. It briefly created a mournful whistle in an unused mailbox.

With an audible snap, Scott heard Theo bolt his door behind him.

That sound brought Scott to a stop. He was walking away from a person who was dying, and, as far as Scott could tell, Theo would be dying alone. It was intolerable. He understood, theoretically, that Theo had a right to privacy. He understood, theoretically, that Theo had a right to determine the course of his own life …

Scott stopped. His fists clenched at his sides. He was angry, but he wasn’t out of control. He should get in his car and drive to the motel. That had become the right thing to do. 

Scott turned on his heel and walked right back up to the stoop of Theo’s house and kicked the door open, shattering the deadbolt. No flimsy wooden door could resist an alpha.

“Let’s try this again!” He said, eyes flashing. 

Theo had come in from the living room with a what-the-hell look onto his face. His mouth dropped open. 

“You owe me.” Scott pointed at Theo. 

“What?” Theo almost shouted in disbelief. “You owe me a door.”

“You owe me a life!” Scott walked up until he was in Theo’s personal space. “And I’m collecting it.”

Theo’s face offered nothing but confusion. “I … owe … you …”

Scott fought off the urge to grab Theo by the shoulders and shake him. “You fought with us against the Ghost Riders, but even you admit that part of that was to keep you from getting sent back to hell. You fought with us against Monroe, but even I know that it was partly because she would be after you. I’m not saying that you didn’t do good things, even heroic things – I’ll never say that.”

Theo gritted his teeth. “Then what are you saying.”

“You don’t have to prove to anyone that you’ve changed, but that doesn’t make what you did go away. That doesn’t erase that sometimes I dream about the library, even after all those years.” Scott put a hand on his abdomen. “I can still feel your claws up under my rib cage sometimes.”

Theo took a step back at that admission, but Scott followed him up.

“It doesn’t change the fact that I said good-bye to Kira on the way here. She’s one of them now. We’ll never be together again, and you helped cause that. It doesn’t change the fact that Stiles’ and my friendship will never be as close as it once was after what you put it through. Donovan will always be between us, forever. I liked you. I trusted you. I wanted to be your friend. I wanted you to be pack. And you tore everything I valued apart.” 

Theo attempted to keep up a defiant face, but he couldn’t hold it. It shattered and he tried to turn away. This time Scott did catch him by the shoulders and turn him around to face him.

“You can kill me if you want to.” Theo whispered.

“I don’t want your death, Theo,” Scott said firmly. “I want your life. I want you alive. You’re acting like an animal, crawling away from the pack as you sense your time coming. That’s sick. I look around this house, and it’s like you’ve dug your grave ahead of time.”

“What does it matter to you?” Theo struggled to break Scott’s grasp, but he couldn’t, and his voice cracked around the words in a plea.

“It matters to me; it doesn’t matter if you understand why it matters to me. You don’t have to believe me. You don’t have to like it. What you do have to do is come with me to Siberia. Help me find the theater. Help me find out if there is a chance to save Corey and you. If we find one, you don’t have to take it. You don’t have to do anything else. You can come back here and rot in this coffin with its cheap carpet and wood paneling.” Scott made Theo look him in the eye. 

“That’s all I have to do? Then we’re even?”

“Yes. We’ll be even.” Scott released his grip. 

Theo stalked away into his bedroom. It was only understandable; Scott had dropped a lot on him in a moment. While he was waiting, Scott went to the front door. He had busted it beyond repair. He got it to shut it at least, but a stiff wind or the slightest push would open it up.

Scott had moved a chair in front of the door so it could at least be closed when Theo came back from the other room. He was carrying a pillow and a blanket, which he threw onto the couch. 

“You want me to stay here?” Scott asked. He assumed that Theo would go with him reluctantly and try to spend as little as time as possible.

“The quicker we get this done, the quicker you’re out of my life,” Theo replied as he moved to the kitchen. “We’d waste tonight and a lot of tomorrow morning just coordinating who does what. We can start planning logistics right away.” 

“Okay.” Scott glanced once more at the jury rigged door. “Sorry about that.” 

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Theo travel to the wilds of Siberia.

Things were tense for the rest of that evening. After Scott ran out to his car, he ordered take out for both of them. It was the least he could do. While waiting for the food, he went into Theo’s garage to find the tools with which to seal up the front door while they were away. Theo’s truck was still there. It was the same one he had had in high school, and while it was still in good working condition it was still fifteen years old. 

When he came back in, Theo and Scott went over their planned itinerary. They’d return to Beacon Hills briefly to get help from their allies. International travel was neither cheap nor easy if you weren’t going to an area that catered to tourists. They’d also have to figure out all the appropriate cold-weather gear to cross the taiga and the tundra. It would be seriously, seriously cold, but they couldn’t wait until summer. 

Luckily, Theo knew Russian. The Doctors had employed him to get supplies when they were operating within Siberia, so he would not only be able to guide him to the Nemeton and the theater, but he also knew how to handle the climate. Scott grimaced; he now had an excuse to use when he felt guilty about making Theo go with him now. 

They decided they would leave for Beacon Hills tomorrow at noon. Theo would explain to his work about him needing time off for medical reasons, but he would have to go in tomorrow morning and fill out FMLA forms. Scott would alert their allies and contact the doctor treating Corey in San Francisco, as well as doing his best to patch the front door.

They worked deep into the night; it was nearing eleven when they finished. Both Scott and Theo still had constitutions that would let them work much later than that, even though they had long left youth behind, but there was no need to push it if they didn’t have to. Scott bid Theo good night and changed into his sleep clothes. 

The couch wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing he had ever slept on, but he did feel himself drifting off after a half-hour or so. The neighborhood wasn’t very loud, and the house was nearly silent -- there wasn’t even the ticking of a clock. For some reason, the fact that the couch smelled so thoroughly of Theo helped relax him. He wasn’t sure why, though in his other travels, having someone’s scent who reminded him of home had always helped.

Scott did wake up once in the middle of the night. He was sprawled on the couch, one leg hanging off and one arm flung over his head. The pillow was threatening to slip off the edge and take him with it. He stirred, initially unaware of what had woken him up. The first thing that drew his attention was the cable box clock. It was three a.m.

The second thing was that Theo was in the room. He was kneeling on the living room floor, studying him. He was still in his boxes and a t-shirt, but his eyes were glowing their beta yellow. Scott never liked that color on Theo because it was a lie. Theo wasn’t a beta or an omega and he certainly didn’t have the right to glow the golden eyes of an innocent. 

Scott frowned. He didn’t like remembering that most of what had first drawn him to Theo had been a lie. He pushed it aside. “Theo?”

Theo blinked once in confusion, which Scott saw even in the near darkness due to his own eyes. 

“Did you … did you need something?”

“Why couldn’t you just leave me be?” Theo whispered. “I was okay. Everything was okay.”

“You’re dying.” Scott pushed himself up on one elbow. “And I couldn’t leave you alone …”

Scott lay there in the dark, still. A human would have seen nothing but two bright eyes in the dark, but Scott could easily make out Theo’s form. He could feel the rush of Theo’s breath, hear the heart beating in his chest, and smell the stark pain in the room. 

“I couldn’t leave you alone because I didn’t _want_ to leave you alone.” Scott said suddenly with steel conviction. “Go to bed, Theo. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

###### 

The stars disappeared as they crossed the border between Arizona and California. This was the first indicator that something was wrong, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. Even if they had noticed the slow retreat, it could have just been a bank of clouds obscuring the sky. 

They had left Van Horn a little after noon, as they had planned, grabbing some lunch on the way out. It would take less time to get back to Beacon Hills this way, as Scott wasn’t taking a detour to Shiprock. But nineteen hours is nineteen hours, and they would have to stop at least once. Scott hadn’t planned to do that until after nine, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to make it that long. He had counted on some conversation with Theo to help pass the time. Road trips were always easier with someone to talk to.

Except Theo’s interest in conversation was virtually non-existent. Scott couldn’t tell if it was anger over the fact that he had basically bullied Theo into coming with him or the idea that Theo just wasn’t used to talking to people for any length of time. The first option was pretty likely. Scott almost never indulged in giving orders; he had always preferred to gain people’s cooperation by other means. Even when everyone had worked together against the crusade after high school, his standard practice was to make suggestions. Scott wasn’t used to extorting compliance like he had done the night before.

On the other hand, it could very well be that Theo had lost the ability to hold a conversations. His house didn’t have anyone else’s scent but his. Scott had found the case of beer in the refrigerator. The two bottles that had been drank had been the first to be taken.

The conclusions Scott could draw from that weren’t particularly pleasant.

The next indicator of trouble was a shift in the wind that brought the smell of smoke into the car, even with the windows rolled up and moving at seventy miles an hour. It wasn’t just a building fire; while he could smell manufactured materials, the majority of it was natural vegetation.

Scott thought back to remember if he had seen any warning signs. Maybe he hadn’t been paying attention. He asked Theo, and Theo shook his head. He hadn’t seen anything either. The night sky was glowing in front of them. 

The car crested the hill and the valley to the west of Blythe was full of flame. It hadn’t reached the road yet. It might not actually do so, and vehicles were zipping right past it like it was nothing. Scott tried to focus. He tried to act as if there was nothing wrong, but he could feel the tremors begin in his hands. He slowed the car, but he kept trying to push himself. _You can do this. You can do this._

It turned out that he couldn’t do it. He pulled the car over to the side of the road. Theo looked alarmed. 

“Could … could you drive for a little while?” Scott asked, trying to keep his voice level. 

Theo nodded and they switched places, but Scott could feel Theo’s eyes on him. Even after Theo started up the car and kept driving, Scott could feel the chimera studying him. Scott kept his eyes focused on the floor of the car beneath his feet.

“You’re afraid of fire.” Theo pronounced suddenly.

“No!” Scott stopped himself from jerking his eyes up. “I’m not afraid of it. It just makes me nervous. And it’s not all fires just … big ones.” 

“I never knew that,” Theo said wonderingly. “I’ve known you for years and I never knew that.”

Scott grumbled. “No one knows.” When Theo made an inquisitive grunt, Scott went on reluctantly. “I don’t tell anyone, so people can’t use it against me.” 

“You did a good job, but …” Theo paused as if remembering something. “That’s fucked up.” 

“Don’t tell me that you wouldn’t have used it against me.” Scott argued. After all, Theo had used everything else against him.

“Of course, I would have, but … you tried to burn yourself at that motel.” Theo swallowed. “No one knew? Not even Stiles?” 

Scott gritted his teeth. “Contrary to popular opinion, I’m allowed to have my own secrets, even from my best friend. If Peter knew, he didn’t care, and Derek obviously didn’t care …”

“Why wouldn’t you tell Stiles?”

“Because he would have done something stupid! He already wanted Derek to die.” Scott protested. He raised his head to talk, but the wildfire was still there. He couldn’t feel the heat, but he could smell the smoke and he saw the orange-red hellscape. He dropped his head again. “I remember the Hale Fire. Peter and Derek trapped me in the locker room after a lacrosse game. Peter … I guess he wanted me to feel sorry for him? He put claws in the back of my neck …” 

Theo made a small regretful sound.

“He made me experience it. He made me remember what he went through. The pain, the fire, watching my … his family burn. The agony. The coma.” Scott swallowed. “I can deal with it. I just don’t like it.”

Theo glanced over at him. “This is going to sound self-destructive, but why didn’t you kill that asshole?”

“I didn’t want him to win.” Scott answered. 

“Scott, hate to break it to you, but Peter did win. He’s free. He’s rich. He got his revenge on every person responsible for that fire. He’s never even admitted he was wrong. A couple of weeks in the ground and five months in an insane asylum doesn’t prevent that from being the definition of ‘winning.’” 

“He didn’t win. I’m not a killer.” Scott replied, firmly. “That’s all he wanted from me – some nameless peon who would help him kill the Argents.”

“You’re a killer. You killed Valet. You killed that hunter in Oaxaca.” 

Scott looked up at Theo and his eyes were shining red. “Valet was a discorporated spirit that had really died two centuries ago. The hunter was trying to pull me off a cliff; he was going to kill himself to kill me. I’m not a killer, because I don’t kill as a first response or even a tenth response. Details matter.”

“I know.” Theo gritted out. Scott couldn’t tell if it was guilt or irritation. Theo changed the subject anyway. “I can’t believe I never knew about the thing in the locker room.”

“It’s easy to hide things when no one cares.” Scott was going for humor, but it came out as bitterness.

Theo purses his lips. “Wow. I thought you liked Derek.”

“I love Derek,” Scott replied. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he didn’t care that he betrayed me to Peter, that he didn’t ask what Peter did to me, that he left me writhing in a towel on the floor in a dark locker room shower. The only thing that mattered to him then was that he had an alpha, that he had family again. I can understand that. I can forgive it, but I was never going to forget. He thought that betas should do what their alpha wanted without question. After he showed me that, I was never going to be his beta.”

Theo turned his face back to the road, lost in thought. “But isn’t that …”

“No. I’ve tried to be the type of alpha that people wanted to follow. I was never going to be an alpha that people _had_ to follow or else.” Scott looked at him. “I wanted people to want to do what I asked. You knew that. You used that.” 

Scott met Theo’s gaze. Theo had to break it to keep an eye on the highway, but he kept glancing over. Theo frowned. “Fair enough.”

###### 

The Pacific Ocean fell away beneath them as the jetliner reached its cruising altitude. It was going to be a long flight. The veteran travelers were settling in. Even though Scott had had plenty of experience in intercontinental flights, he couldn’t help but glance out of the corner of his eye at Theo, making sure he was okay. 

Theo had been well-behaved once they reached Beacon Hills and throughout the three days they had spent there. It wasn’t like he had much time to get into trouble. They had had funds to raise and preparations to make. They had chosen a two-layover flight – from San Francisco to Hong Kong to Vladivostok to Yakutsk. They had had to renew their passports in San Francisco. They had had to shop for the long trip from Yakutsk to Logashkino. 

Luckily, both Derek and Chris were available to help arrange things. Part of Scott’s education consisted of mission planning through the long years of struggle, but he was never going to be as flush with resources as those two were. Derek never blinked twice in offering assistance; Corey was pack and that was all that mattered to him. Chris considered it a form of investment; the Argents would learn about the Siberian Nemeton and the Operating Theater. 

Then there were the meetings with Deaton and Mason to refresh them both on everything known about the Doctors and the Nemetons as well as learn about the known packs that lived in Siberia. There were meetings with his father and Stiles where they talked about the political situation in Russia. It probably wouldn’t be that much of a concern; things were relatively peaceful there and they were, after all, an alpha werewolf and a chimera. 

Between all the briefings and the preparation, there hadn’t been much time to do anything else. Scott did have time for one high-tension dinner with the pack, including his mother and Derek. Both of them had wanted to talk to him and he wasn’t ready yet to talk to them. Theo had been very helpful that night, as he had encouraged the where-have-you-been questioning, tolerated the awkward silences, and endured Stiles’ eye-glare of distrust. Scott would have been grateful even if he hadn’t, because his presence had been one of the reasons Stiles had driven up from San Francisco.

But the weirdest thing hadn’t been anything to do with Scott at all. Melissa had gone on and on about how much she had hated Theo’s haircut. She really, _really_ didn’t like it. She was apologetic, but she explained that it made her feel old. When pushed on her reasons, she said he looked like the member of a band she had followed in her early twenties. That would have been weird enough, but the next day, Theo got his hair cut as soon as he could. It was styled very similarly to the way he had had it cut when he first came back to Beacon Hills so long ago.

For some reason, Scott couldn’t help himself from stealing glances. Theo looked so young. 

“What?” Theo must have caught him. 

“Your hair.” Scott admitted. “I can’t stop looking at it.”

“It was weird with your mom saying she wanted to date a guy that looked like me.” Theo replied. “And don’t say she didn’t say it, because she totally did. You don’t fixate on something like that unless it makes you uncomfortable, and I can read between the lines.”

“I’m sorry she did that.” Scott was even more weirded out now. 

“Don’t be. It was kind of nice.” 

Scott sat up and snapped his head around. 

Theo sighed exasperatedly. “Not like that. Ew.” The chimera shrugged. “It was kind of nice to have someone nagging me about my appearance.”

Scott raised both eyebrows. 

“You take her for granted, you know.” Theo said grumpily. “You should listen to her more.”

Scott gawped. “What?” 

“She just wants you to be happy, and I know you know that, and I also know that it wouldn’t hurt you to listen to her once in a while.” Theo observed as if talking over a math problem. 

Scott was so shocked that he turned to the left. The Chinese couple reading magazines in the next aisle were not very helpful. “Why do you care what I do with my mom?”

“Envy.” Theo replied easily.

Scott swallowed. Suddenly, even though he knew he shouldn’t, he felt like a heel. That turn in emotion must have been written on his face. Theo took a breath before he continued.

“It’s not right to say that I don’t remember my mom and dad. I do remember them; I just don’t remember them very clearly. It was a long time ago, and I’m also pretty sure that the Doctors modified my memories of them. It makes sense; why would scientists like themselves want to waste time keeping some kid from being homesick?”

Scott leaned forward with a bit of eagerness. If they had manipulated Theo’s memory once, they might have manipulated his memory about other things. “Maybe they …”

“No.” Theo said quickly. “I killed her; I would like to be able to blame it on someone else, but I can’t. You have to understand that the Doctors were very focused on their goals. It wasn’t malicious, honestly. They did what they needed to in order to get what they want. I was what they wanted; someone who would do that to their own sister without being forced. So they stripped away the parts they didn’t need and left the parts they did; the parts they thought were perfect.” 

“Theo.” Scott remembered the Surgeon’s entire speech, even years later. “They were deluded old villains trying to resurrect something that never should have existed in the first place. What they thought you were doesn’t exist.”

“But it does; it’s what I was.” Theo replied. “I remember being envious of Tara. You should have known her, Scott. She was kind and sweet and talented. She was brilliant; Lydia reminds me of her. She was an artist, too. She was sixteen and so talented that people were talking about exhibitions. I don’t … I don’t remember what medium she used. I guess they took that memory, too.”

Scott opened his mouth but no words came out, smothered by horror. He felt sweaty and disoriented. He had felt the same way on the locker-room floor after Peter had forced _his_ way into Scott's mind. Naked and vulnerable.

“My parents weren’t bad people. They didn’t beat me. They didn’t starve me for attention. They didn’t constantly compare me to Tara. But … Tara was their star. I knew it; everybody knew it. How could you not like her? How could you not want to make her the center of your world?” 

Theo looked like he was going to turn away, but he didn’t. He gripped the airplane’s seat so hard that his knuckles turned white. “I wanted to be the center of the world. I wanted her talent. I wanted that, and I would do anything … I did anything to get it. I was the perfect evil they were looking for.” 

“You were _ten._ ” Scott shook his head. 

“I had a family who cared for me. It wasn’t my parent’s fault that Tara was better than me. I had a sister who …” Theo closed his eyes. “So, yeah, I’m a little envious of you.”

Scott didn’t know what to say. During the years that Theo was an ally, they had just pretended that the trouble of senior year hadn’t happened. There had been more important things to do. But he knew that had been wrong. You couldn’t really treat a person right until you knew all about him. Take Stiles. If Scott hadn’t known about Claudia; if Scott hadn’t know about how much that had shaped his friend, Scott wouldn’t have remained his friend. The boundary issues, the possessiveness, and the sarcasm would have driven him away. It went both ways; Stiles knew Scott just as well. But Scott had spent years thinking he knew Theo Raeken, and he really hadn’t.

Even if Theo had been complicit with every aspect of his sister’s murder and his own transformation, there would have been no way the Doctors could have stepped in and been the parents that Theo needed. The very idea of the Pathologist scolding Theo for playing too many video games or the Geneticist giving romantic advice made Scott involuntarily giggle.

Theo looked offended when he heard the giggle. Scott shared, shamefaced, what he had been thinking. 

“I read a lot. I watched television.” Theo shrugged. “They were actually pretty good at teaching me stuff like math and physics and psychology. When we were near populated areas, they made sure I had plenty of social interaction.” 

Scott decided to satiate his curiosity since Theo felt like talking. “Did you have any friends?”

Theo shook his head. “How would _that_ work?”

Scott considered it and shrugged. The conversation turned to Scott’s friends. Theo wanted to pass the time, and it was easier to talk about the pack than himself. But Scott knew he wouldn’t forget the conversation.

###### 

Scott stared out the window of the Snow Cat as it plowed through the tundra. He felt irritable, even though he was warm and dry and it held to what passed as a road without a problem. He couldn’t tell if the sun had set or not because of the amount of snow going past the windows.

“I thought you said that it didn’t snow that much this far north?” He accused Theo. 

“It doesn’t snow all the time, but it does snow. Most of this …” Theo indicated the near white-out conditions that they were driving through. “Most of this is actually blowing snow.”

“Seriously?” Scott crossed his arms. “Or maybe you just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. Aren’t you glad we took our precautions that I insisted we take seriously? I think even your ass could die of exposure in this.” Theo never even looked at him. He was driving, but the road could barely be seen. Most of the time, the chimera consulted the sophisticated GPS, checking only to make sure he didn’t run into a rock or a stream. There weren’t many trees here, where the taiga turned into the tundra. 

Scott let the silence claim the interior of the Snow Cat once again as it ground its way through the storm outside. It had been a forty-five hour drive from Yakutsk to this part of Siberia. Settlements were few and far between. Most didn’t have what anyone living in California would consider roads between them. People used vehicles like this one to travel, crossing the vast expanse. 

Theo chuckled as he checked the chronometer. “Good. We’ll get there before sunset tomorrow, which’ll give us a full twenty-four hours before the full moon.”

“Full moons aren’t a problem with me now.” Scott reminded him, almost growling. 

“Forgive me if I want to make sure you don’t kill me.” 

Scott shifted in his seat, frowning. “I wouldn’t kill you.”

“Look you’ve already been locked in here with me forty-five hours. We haven’t slept in real beds in four days. At this point, I’m not sure I wouldn’t want to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t try to kill you. I’m not you.” Scott caught his breath. The temperature inside the Snow Cat dropped to freezing even though it was just as warm as it was a few minutes ago.

“I … that was stupid. I was wrong to bring it up …” Scott stuttered. “I don’t … it’s …”

Theo focused on driving. He hadn’t responded to Scott’s bitter comment nor his lame attempt at diffusing the situation. But his jaw was set tight and his knuckles were turning a little white.

Scott took a few deep breaths while staring out the window. He gathered his thoughts. “I should never use what happened in the past against you. You’re here because I made you come here. You’re here helping me help Corey. It was a long time ago, and we’re different people now. I’m sorry”

Theo sighed. “Jesus, Scott, I plotted your murder. You’re allowed to hold it against me. Sometimes …” He shut down again.

Scott studied Theo’s face. Part of him wanted to drag what Theo was about to say out of him. Part of him wanted to respect Theo’s rights more than he had been in recent days.

Theo continued, but Scott knew it was a deflection. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to die. And you’ve died, what … three times?”

“You …” Scott was about to say that Theo had died.

“No. I was in another dimension. I wasn’t dead. At least … the rules were all screwy there. But you were dead here, in this world, three times.”

“Dead … mostly dead? The first two times were magic rituals. They didn’t follow the rules either.” Scott shrugged. “I still don’t understand … I still don’t get how I could be dead for sixteen hours and come back.”

Theo took in a deep breath. “What was it like?”

“I thought I’d be more scared, but I was with Allison and Stiles. We were in this big room. It was like a room at the high school only bigger and … cleaner. It was white. So white. And the Beacon Hills Nemeton was there. Deaton said we had entered the superconsciousness.” It was easier than he had expected to talk about Theo about this, because as much as Theo denied it, he had experienced something much like it: a state of being that you weren’t expected to come back from. 

“He would.” Theo smiled. “They said similar things.”

“All three of us approached the Nemeton. Then …” 

Theo looked at him surprised; he could probably hear his heart beat rise and smell his tension. Scott wasn’t bothering to conceal it.

Scott’s hand went to the tattoos on his left arm, hidden by the heavy coat. “The Nemeton showed us its location by showing us the night I got bit. It chose us that night. It’d been partially awakened by Paige and it reached out and it …” Scott sighed. “I hate it.”

Theo had to keep an eye on the road, but Scott could tell he was interested.

“I’ve only told you this. I hate the Nemeton, because it showed us just enough for me to think … “ Scott swore. “It gave me the idea for the tattoo. How much else did it do? Why did I only hear Allison’s phone that first day of school? Did it make sure that dog ran in front of Allison’s car? How much of this was my choice and how much was some quasi-sentient tree stump pushing things?”

“You don’t really think it …” Theo said. “Look, Scott, it’s easy to think that someone manipulated you into making all the big choices in your life, but it’s not true. Whether it’s steam-punk obsessives or mystic vegetation, most of your choices are yours, unless they turn you into a puppet. Trust me on this.”

Scott bit his lip. Theo would know, wouldn’t he?

“The second time, we were trying to trap the Benefactor. I knew I was going to dream this time. Noshiko said that it would depend on me what type of dreams I had.”

Theo chuckled. “That wasn’t the best plan. Seriously.” He must have found out about it when preparing to visit. “What type of dreams did you have?”

Scott snorted. “Dreams about killing. I got to watch Liam get butchered by the Mute and then butchered by me. I guess what everyone said about me was finally starting to get to me?”

“What did people say about you?” 

“That I was weak for not killing threats to the pack. That it was my job to be the killer that everyone thought I should be. That when I refuse, it's selfish and I'm a bad alpha. That not killing our enemies who might kill my friends was as good as killing them myself.” 

Theo laughed grimly. “You know, it’s always dumbasses and psychos who think that killing is the right thing to do, that it solves everything. It doesn’t. Killing Josh a second time was pointless. I got useless information out of it. Killing Tracy was even a bigger waste.”

Scott was surprised. Theo had never talked about those events before. 

“Tracy liked me, you know. I’m not sure if it was by her choice or because of her kanima nature, but she actually liked me. She wanted to be with me. She was loyal. She felt bad that she couldn’t help me more.” Theo choked up. “She never judged me. And I killed her for power that was squandered because I let Deucalion trick me. So …” Theo took a deep breath. “Tell people who think you should kill to fuck off and do it themselves. Let them live with it.”

Scott reflexively reached out and put a hand on Theo’s shoulder. Theo startled and then shrugged the hand of his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t comfort me.” Theo spat bitterly. “You should ask me about Hell.”

Scott didn’t really want to, but Theo seemed to want him to ask about it. Scott had felt a little weight come off his heart when he spoke about his dreams. Maybe Theo wanted the same. 

“What did you see?”

Theo spoke while fixing his eyes on the snow or maybe it was something beyond the snow. “I woke up in the morgue. Tara came to me. She had a huge gaping hole in her chest. She chases me and ripped my heart out of my chest. Then it happened again. And again. And again. I couldn’t … I couldn’t count the number of times it happened.”

Scott let out a long slow breath. “Oh, my God, Theo. That’s … that’s horrible.”

“It wasn’t horrible,” Theo responded. “It was a lesson. Tara’s death was pointless. It was as pointless as every single murder that I committed or helped commit. All those chimera. Josh again. Tracy again. Even if I had killed Mason and Valet, it would have been pointless. They were teaching me a lesson.” 

Scott didn’t say anything. This was a confession.

“Because I’m pointless. There’s something wrong with me.” Theo nodded. “I don’t know what it is, but …” The steering wheel creaked under the strength of his grip. “Why can’t any of our dreams be good ones?”

Scott wanted to tell Theo that he wasn’t pointless and that it was a stupid and silly thing to say, but he recognized the echoing despair in those words. No hollow aphorism was going to put Theo at ease. But there was something he could say.

“I had a good dream in the library.” Scott said quietly.

Theo nearly jerked the Snow Cat into a depression but he managed to pull it out. It wouldn’t be good if he put them in a ditch in the wilds of Siberia. 

“Yeah.” Scott took a deep breath. “It was a lacrosse game. I don’t remember who we were playing, but they were good. I was captain and Jackson was captain with me. Stiles and Liam and Danny and Boyd and Isaac were all playing. And all our friends were in the stands. Derek, Erica, Cora, Mason, Corey, and Malia. Allison was there with her parents. Kira was there with her parents. Lydia and her grandmother. My mom and dad. Stiles’ mom and dad. Even Deucalion and the twins. And they were shouting and waving signs and it was … it was so normal.” 

Theo smiled. “Did you win?”

“No.” Scott laughed. “We lost eight to six. And Jackson was pissed and Lydia teased me, but it was okay. It was totally okay. We went out for consolation pizza. We had a good time, until my mom told me it was time to come back.” 

“As far as good dreams go, McCall, that’s pretty lame.” Theo forced out a joke.

“It was great.” Scott whispered. “I lost and no one got hurt. I didn’t want to come back.”

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR’S NOTE: http://www.eng.zzgt.ru/model12/zz-3/ is the model of vehicle they were using.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Theo reach the Doctors' secret lair near the Siberian nemeton.

Logashkino squatted forlornly amid the tundra like gravestones in a marsh. The ghost town had never been much more than a trading post and eventually it was abolished by the Russian government in 1998. Even before then, people hadn’t lived there for very long, and it wasn’t hard to see why. As the snow had stopped days ago, Scott could get a good look at the surrounding land: tundra, frozen swamps, and the occasional icy lake. 

There had once been five buildings in the town, but two had collapsed completely and one was very close to doing the same. Two or three more harsh winter storms and it would be a pile of rubble. Of the two remaining buildings, one was a combination of post office, administration center, and store. As Scott walked past it, he noted that while the large front window had been blown out and the shelves were rusted, that was most of the damage. He could imagine what it would have looked like when people livered here. Now, it looked like a dream ended; it looked lonely. 

Theo got out of the Snow Cat and approached one of the two large doors that opened to the last and sturdiest building. He pushed one of them up, using all his strength to overcome the rust, and then motioned for Scott to drive it inside. The lights revealed the interior of the place, so Scott left them on when stopped the vehicle. Theo pulled the garage door shut with a deep clang. 

“Why are the gas pumps inside?” Scott was always taught that gasoline pumps were kept outside for the safety risk.

“The average low in January is -35 degrees Fahrenheit.” Theo answered. “Gasoline freezes between -40 and -50.” 

The sturdy garage would have been big enough to house six different vehicles with plenty of room for them to be worked on. Almost everything had been removed long ago, but the bare walls were thick, reinforced concrete. This far north, reliable vehicles became crucially important. They had to be well-maintained, so this garage was necessary. Even after years of emptiness, it was slightly warmer inside; Scott’s could feel it where the park exposed his face. 

Theo worked a light switch on the wall, flipping it back and forth. “Yeah. The generator’s gone. I didn’t expect it to still be here, honestly. It was nearly done when we left in 2012.” 

“So, we have no lights?” Scott could operate without them, but it would still be better if they had electric light. 

“Not up here. We’ll have to see how things are below.” 

Scott looked around the room illuminated only by the Snow Cat’s headlights. He saw no other entrances or even things that might conceal an entrance. “Where?”

Theo counted his steps until he was standing in one of the repair bays. “The entrance is slightly out-of-phase with reality. You can’t find it unless you know where to look.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction.

“How would you open something like that?” Scott wondered. 

“Quantum theory made practice. Observing something changes it.” Theo reached down and touched the floor, but when he lifted his hand there was an obvious trap door. “Make sure you memorize where it is. Knocking isn’t an option, even with our hearing.”

Scott watched Theo pull up the trap door. The chimera was so confident, so self-assured. He would have been eighteen the last time he was here, and yet Theo was acting as if he had been here yesterday. Below was a staircase that led down into darkness. 

Scott joined Theo after he had turned off the lights on the Snow Cat. They didn’t need dead batteries. The sodium lights of the facility came on as the alpha descended the stairs. It wasn’t much of a descent. 

“They couldn’t build it very deeply. People don’t look for basements in the tundra, the permafrost is too difficult to build in.” Theo’s voice echoed out from the darkness. “Oh. Good!” There was a groan and a whine and the place filled with light. Theo gestured at the generator. “The Doctors built their stuff to last.”

The underground complex flooded with light. There had been a variety in how the Operating Theaters had been set up. The Doctors had took advantage of already existing locations and modified their libraries to match those locations. This was a long corridor with several bays and a large circular room just vaguely seen at the end. 

“What was this place?”

“State security listening station. Abandoned at the same time Logashkino was abolished.” Theo was working on a machine next to the generator. “Ahhhh, heat.” 

Another machine hummed to life and Scott could hear the rush of warm air throughout the place. He started to divest himself of the heavy snow gear. He was a werewolf and it wouldn’t take long for the temperature to reach levels comfortable for him. While taking off his boots, he found himself watching Theo out of the corner of his eyes. All through the trip, Scott had noticed how Theo had started to move. He didn’t move like a werewolf did, instinctual and primal. He didn’t move like a human his age, either. He moved like a precision watch, even after all these years. 

Theo had left the generator and the heater to start surveying the theater and Scott followed him down the corridor. In various rooms, there was equipment that certainly resembled the Frankenstein-like aesthetic of the Doctors. All of it seemed to be more or less intact. 

“They left all of this here?” Scott asked, while he eyed a large glass tube. It could have once held Douglas. 

“They lived for nothing but their work, but even they didn’t fancy carrying ten tons of equipment between Theaters. Most of this stuff probably still works.” Theo came to the door for which he was looking. “Bingo!”

Scott continued to be startled by the change a little under two weeks of travel had caused in Theo. Scott had had to drag him out of his house in Texas to help him, but now Scott was the one following him around. Theo seemed to bloom now that he was in his element once more; it was much more satisfying than the withered husk that he had found in Van Horn. “What?”

“Data storage.” Theo grunted at the door. “I’m going to need your alpha muscles, Scott. They didn’t give me access to the vault. This was the most important thing to them. More important than equipment, more important than people – other than Douglas, I guess.” 

Scott went up to the door and stood next to him. “And you, of course.” He didn’t know why he said that.

Now it was Theo’s turn to be startled. “What … why do …?”

“On three.” Scott said, putting his hands on the door. Theo shook off his question and got a grip on it as well. “One … two … three …” 

The door was more than just heavy steel. It was designed not only for security but also to protect what was inside. The contents turned out to be labelled storage boxes, the kind used by archives to keep records organized and protected. There were eighteen of them, six on each wall. Far too many just to load it up all in the Snow Cat and take back. 

Scott sighed. “We have some reading to do.” He turns around to find Theo looking at him. “Do they at least have furniture?”

Theo shook himself. His mind had been focused elsewhere. “Yeah. There’s beds and tables in that room over there. Even they had to sleep once in a while.” 

“Grab a box and let’s get to it.” Scott studied them. They were labelled in Russian, French, and English, but the labels didn’t make much sense to him. He grabbed one labelled in French. Theo grabbed one in Russian, but he gave Scott a questioning look.

“I spent a lot of time with Mr. Argent. He wanted me to have access to all their archives, not just their bestiary. So I had to learn French. My accent is terrible, but I can read it.”

“Okay.” 

The single room not dedicated to arcane science was Spartan. Tables stood out in the main area, while there were four alcoves for sleeping. Three of the alcoves had cots, but one had a real full-sized bed. Theo dropped onto it like it was his, which it probably was. Scott took a seat at the table directly in front of Theo’s alcove. 

The storage carton he chose contained old books. They were all in French, all published in Paris in the late eighteenth and early nineteen centuries, and they were an assortment of science and occult books. Scott didn’t think that what he needed to find would be in one of them, but he checked each of them anyway. Stiles always lectured him on thoroughness when doing research. 

He was down to the last two when a folded sheet of paper fell out of one. Scott picked it up, carefully, as it seemed very old, though in very good condition. It was ancient, dated May 1, 1755. Scott read it out of curiosity, but the farther he got into the letter, the greater the surprise. 

It was a letter from Sebastian Valet to his friend Marcel. It was simple: a message from one friend to another. With just a few changes, it could have been an e-mail that Scott had written to Stiles. It was a bit shocking to find those two had been real friends; Scott could tell from the emotion in every word on the page. 

Scott found it one of the oddest things he had ever experienced. He had heard the story of the Beast of Gévaudan from Lydia who had heard it from Gerard. The letter gave no indication that the author was a serial killer and would become a monstrous werewolf or that the person to whom it was being written would become a centuries-old parascientist obsessed with bringing his friend back from the dead. It was almost sweet. 

Scott tried to place himself in Marcel’s shoes. How could Marcel just forget about everything else but Sebastian? How could the scientist forget about all the people Sebastian had killed? How could he forget about the people his experiments hurt? Scott turned the letter over and over. How could someone come to believe that their own personal desires were so much greater than the basic responsibility they had to everyone else, no matter how much they missed their friend?

Scott let the letter fall from his hands when the answer came to him. He knew exactly how it could happen, because he had chosen to go to the exact opposite extreme. 

He had noticed how taking Theo away from the life he had made for himself had transformed Theo from a slightly morose hermit into a man who wouldn’t be out of place in a James Bond movie. But Scott had changed as well during the trip. Here, he was no longer trapped in his own head. He felt open and free, and that feeling made it clear how much of the last few years he had spent closed off. 

Of course, he had been _ready_ for a crisis, just as he told everyone he had had to be. Now, he was a hero again. But the letter had made it occur to him that instead of sacrificing everyone and everything else to the selfish desire to bring his psychotic friend back from the dead, Scott had instead sacrificed himself to the unselfish desire to save the day. 

Yes, he knew there was a difference between him and Marcel. He knew that he had helped make the world better, but living only for that end was just as unbalanced as Marcel’s path. In a way, he had become just as twisted as the Surgeon.

Scott picked the letter back up and held it in his hand without really reading it for about ten minutes before Theo looked over. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Scott folded the letter carefully and put it away, packing the books back into the box. “Any luck on your end?”

“No. I don’t think this box has what I need.” Theo tossed the folder he was reading on the bed into the loose pile. He spread out over the bed, uncoiling smoothly like a cat, as Scott watched. “But I’ll read every bit of it.” 

Scott grabbed his box a little more roughly than he meant to. “I’m going to get another. You hungry? I can run and get the food from the Snow Cat.” 

“Not really hungry, but can you get me one of them terrible sodas?” 

“Will do.” 

In addition to the soda, Scott got some of the food and other supplies from the truck. Afterwards, he put his first storage carton back in the vault and carefully selected two more cartons. One was in French and one was in English; he felt that he should change it up to keep himself alert. He put them down on the table and then went back up to the car to grab more of their belongings. He did these small things, time-consuming things, one after another. Things that would bury the uncomfortable feeling that his mother and Derek were right, and that he’d been very wrong. Things that would erase the notion rocketing around his skull that there was a possibility he had wasted years of his life. 

His life hadn’t been so bad, Scott argued with himself. It’s not like he never had had any fun. It’s not like … it’s not like he had shut himself off to any other sort of life. The sort of life you could spend with someone else.

_Back to work._ Scott disciplined himself. _Back to work._

The hours passed by and Scott finally moved past those unpleasant thoughts and back to the task at hand. The time wasn’t unprofitable. Both Theo and he found information on the chimera experiments. They would discuss them and place the entire box with those contents in a pile. They’d take those back with them. They still hadn’t found what they really needed, though

They weren’t even half done with the contents of the vault when Scott looked up from where he was about to open up a new box. Theo had passed out on the bed, his head resting gently on the folder. If they had been in high school, it would have looked like an all-night study session. Now Theo was a mature adult but there was just enough boyishness in him that Scott might have taken a picture and put it up on his Instagram account as something cute. 

Did he still have an Instagram account? Did Instagram even still exist? Did he miss everything that his generation did with their loved ones?

Scott forced himself to refocus on the English box he had just pulled open. He was greeted by his own name on a big, fat manila folder. As he looked through the box, there was a folder for every member of his senior-year pack. He took his own out. Notes were written on the folder’s cover; they were in Theo’s handwriting.

These must have been the briefs that Theo read before he came back to Beacon Hills. Scott was intrigued and opened the folder to read about himself. 

Scott was amazed at the amount of information in the folder. He found his medical records, including the history of his asthma prescription. He found the police report that described what happened with Roxy and the dog that had attacked them. He found copies of his school transcripts, including the academic probation forms from his sophomore year. He wondered how the Doctors had gotten ahold of this information.

And while it was quite amazing, it was also disturbing. They knew things about him that Scott didn’t know; that he wouldn’t want anyone to know. They had copies of the repair bills for all the damage he had done to his house and his mother’s car. They had copies of the overdue notices to utility companies. They had intercepted e-mails from Gerard to his hunters about him during the kanima incident. They had a list of all the women that his father had cheated on his mother with. 

Scott closed the folder. Just like the cover, Theo’s handwriting had been all through it, taking notes on what he had read. He was sure that if he had gone through all the other folders – Stiles’, Lydia’s, Malia’s, Kira’s, and Liam’s – that they would have the same secrets and the same careful notes. It was sort of humbling. Theo must have known them as well as they knew themselves.

Scott turned to watch Theo snoring gently on the bed. He smiled.

###### 

The next day passed in much the same way. It wasn’t until a little after two the next afternoon – though time didn’t have much meaning in the artificial light of the Operating Theater -- that Theo discovered something. “Scott! Scott, come here!” 

Scott was coming back from cleaning the lunch dishes. The facility had a small kitchen. The act of washing and drying had been soothing. They had found references here and there but there had been no clear discussion of the problem facing Theo and Corey.

When he got back in the room, Theo was excited. He had taken a folder from the bed and put it on the desk. “My knowledge of medicine is basic, but I think this is what we want.”

Scott looked over the papers. There were notes about how to treat the mercury so it would stabilize the supernatural tissues rather than poison the bloodstream. He didn’t understand the paranormal science or half of the words, but this addressed what was going on. “This is exactly what we needed. We have to get these notes back to Deaton and the other doctor. There’s hope.”

“Are you sure?” Theo looked so young at that moment. He looked so eager for good news.

It made Scott happy that he could give him good news. “This describes the process they were planning to use. This is more than we had before. I know what I would do, and I’m just a normal vet. I’m sure that others can make more out of it.”

Theo turned away. His heartbeat has slowed. His sigh was almost imperceptible. “I guess we should get ready to go.”

Scott felt the need to go and touch Theo. To reassure him that things were going to be alright. He took a step forward and then stopped himself. “By time we get everything loaded, it’ll be nightfall. We should wait until first thing tomorrow after a good night’s sleep.” 

Theo nodded but then moved away to start packing the Snow Cat with the boxes they were taking. The rest would go back into the vault. Working together, it didn’t take them long to get everything packed. They’d eat dinner, sleep, and then start the drive with the sun. It left them only an hour of daylight.

Scott scratched at the back of his neck. While it had been a good idea to wait to the next morning, there was an entire evening to occupy themselves. “Are you hungry?” 

“No. Not yet.” Theo stretched to his full height. He was as broad in the shoulder as he was in high school. Scott is just now noticing that. In Texas, he had seemed shrunken. “Hey … wanna see something cool?” 

Scott laughed. “Of course. Curiosity got me where I am today.”

The thing that Theo wanted to show him was outside, so they put on their heavy winter gear. Despite questioning both teasing and polite, Theo refused to say anything more. It was the best type of aggravation; making Scott eager. They set off out of the garage and across the frozen tundra on foot. In the west the sun crawled toward the horizon, pale and orange, and threw their shadows out in front of them like giants striding the earth.

Scott saw the plume of steam easily enough once they started heading toward it. It must have been a quarter of a mile away from Logashkino. He glanced over at Theo who had a very pleasant smirk on his face. “I didn’t think that this place had geothermal activity.”

Theo lifted eyebrows mockingly at him from within the parka. He didn’t say anything. 

“I’m still an alpha you know. I could bury you alive in a snow drift.” Scott said it with a smile. 

“Trust me. This is going to be worth the wait.” 

They trudged along the nearly flat terrain. Scott could tell as they got closer that the plume was coming from a depression in the ground. It was bowl-shaped but with steep sides; the opening was only twenty-five feet across and all but occluded by the mist rising above it. Scott sensed the faintest trace of sulfur and the smell of … pine? 

Theo had reached an edge and began to climb down what seemed to be some sort of hidden staircase. The stairs were ridiculously narrow and slick with moisture, so even with their enhanced reflexes they had to go slowly.

As they descended, the temperature rose steadily until it might have been above freezing. The mist slowly cleared to reveal something that took Scott’s breath away. In the hollow cavern was a hot spring, bubbling up from down below and forming a pool of warmth. In the very center of the spring’s cavern was an island of rocks and soil, so perfectly shaped that it couldn’t have happened naturally. Upon the island grew a massive tree, a Siberian pine, twisted by centuries of growth. Its top was obscured by the mists formed when the warm moist air met with the frozen exterior. Great roots had grown out of the ground and spread out into the water itself. He was not yet close enough to feel its power, but Scott knew what it was the moment he saw it.

It was a Nemeton.

The stairs ended in a small cliff, chalky with minerals brought up from far below and slick with moisture. It was like a place you’d read about in fantasy books. Scott wondered if the Nemeton tree in Beacon Hills had once held the majesty that this one did. He wished he could have known it at the height of his power. He let out a slow breath.

“Yeah,” Theo chuckled. “That’s what I thought. I’m glad we could find it. If it wants you to find it, you can see the steam.”

“You’ve been here before?” 

Theo nodded. “Half a dozen times. Sometimes, I needed to be alone, you know?” 

Scott did know. “Thank you for showing me this.” 

Theo turned away, studying the tree. “I’d come here just to get away. Even in the depths of winter, with the Aurora Borealis in the sky and the stars and no sun for days. I’d come here and feel warm. I’d even go for a swim.” 

Scott imagined it. Getting away from the obsessive scientist in the cold masks. Sneaking through the night to a place that was warm. “Okay. Let’s.” He unzipped his parka and tossed it to the side.

Theo turned to watch him. “What?”

“Let’s swim.” Scott bent down and pulled his boots off. They were above the Arctic Circle, so he had a lot to take off. It kept him from checking to see if Theo was going to join him. Eventually, though, he heard the chimera start unzipping. He smiled to himself 

As he pulled his shirts off, he asked Theo. “How deep is it? Don’t want to crack my head and drown.”

Theo laughed. “That would be anticlimactic. It’s about six feet deep. You can jump in, but don’t dive.”

Scott hadn’t been naked with another person for eighteen months. He might have lied when he let his mother believe that he had frequent hook ups. He’d never been that type of person. But he doesn’t feel bashful; he feels like he’s shedding more than his clothes. One step, two steps, and he hopped into the water.

There wasn’t much shock. The water made his skin feel tingly; it was warmer than the air. It was comforting and strange. Scott kicked slowly even though he knew he could bounce on the bottom. He floated, feeling weightless.

Theo jumped in soon after and the splash covered the top of his head with drops. Scott could feel Theo’s presence in the water near him. He turned to see the other man shake the water out of his eyes

“Aren’t we getting a little old for this?” Theo complained, but he was smiling.

“Do you feel a little old for this?” Scott asked, softly. Scott could see Theo’s shoulders breaking the plane of the water, his arms moving back and forth in great slow sweeps. Maybe he wasn’t as cut as he had been in high school, but he was still strong and graceful.

“I …” Theo trailed off. He was looking at Scott as if he suddenly didn’t know what to say. It was rare for even the older Theo to be at a loss for words.

Scott swam close enough to make both of them aware of each other’s personal space. There was only inches between them, and Scott wanted to get closer. “For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel a little old. For the first time, in a long time, I feel …” His whole idea was reckless and stupid and he didn’t even know why he was doing it but he just knew that if he did, it would free so good. He reached out and took Theo by the sides of the head and brought their lips together. 

It might have been a good kiss; it might have been a great kiss. Regardless, both of them stopped swimming and they slipped under the water. It cut out the cold of the air and the sound of the wind and everything else but the warm water and the sounds of their hearts beating. Theo’s mouth tasted of the spring’s minerals, but when his lips opened after a moment’s stubborn resistance, he tasted mint. He could feel Theo’s breath move into his lungs; under the water it was almost as if Theo was his inhaler.

At first, Scott thought that he’d gone too far. Maybe Theo was just letting him kiss him because of some weird debt thing. Maybe he thought it was part of the deal. It almost ruined the moment until Theo brought his arms around Scott and pulled him close, body to body. The touch of someone against his skin must have been something Theo had desired as strongly as he had. 

Eventually though, they had to come up for air. It didn’t take much, just Scott pushing them up off the bottom with his legs. The rock at the bottom of the pond was uncomfortably warm. They burst to the surface, breaking the kiss, and drawing air into their lungs. 

“Don’t let go,” Scott ordered, but only gently; he liked the feeling of Theo clinging to him. Theo kept his arms around him, so the alpha had his hands free. He kicked his legs and stroked with one arm towards the center of the pool. 

“But …” Theo stuttered with a surprising amount of anxiety. He shifted his arms to give Scott better range.

“There’s not another person within one hundred miles. No one to judge. No one to say it’s wrong. But if you don’t want to, all you have to say is no.” Scott grabbed onto one of the sturdy roots descending from the trunk of the pine. It was rough with bark but strong enough to hold their weight. 

“I don’t want to say no.” Theo planted a kiss where Scott’s jaw met his throat. He moved down the throat, tasting the skin, moving to the hollow between the neck and the shoulder. He let Scott push them both until they were resting on some of the Nemeton’s roots. 

Scott didn’t mind the roots; he didn’t mind anything. As Theo nipped at his shoulder, Scott let his hands slide their way down Theo’s sides. He could feel the muscles play underneath the chimera’s skin as the other man moved up and down. Only when Theo’s mouth ventured near his did he capture them again. 

Scott had never been bashful when it came to looking at other people. In his life, he had been in the locker room, in the bedroom, in the figurative foxhole with all sorts of people. Theo’s body was solid; it was real and it fit against his like God had designed it to. He suddenly grabbed the chimera by the waist and pushed Theo up so he was farther out of the water. He pressed his lips against Theo’s chest, using his tongue to taste him. 

Scott pushed himself back with his feet, bringing Theo’s body along with him until he was almost spread out horizontally on the roots. They were face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Words weren’t necessary any longer; there was nothing that they could say that their bodies weren’t already showing. He could feel Theo’s length press against his thigh and his answering hardness sliding between Theo’s legs.

It should be awkward. It had been a long time and there hadn’t even an adorable meet cute. But what was there before was there now. There had been always been an undercurrent of attraction, never spoken. They had been what the other wanted; whether for good or for ill, that didn’t matter now. 

Theo started thrusting against him as they stared into each other’s eyes. There was a need between them, a desire to be completely open to each other that never disappeared. It was everything else that got in the way: ambition, resentment, duty, and time. So much time spent alone.

Scott pressed up in answer; the touch of flesh against flesh, against Theo’s flesh, was excitement and bravery and abandon, and he didn’t want to stop. It wasn’t elegant; it didn’t have to be elegant. They weren’t in competition now. They didn’t have to display their sexual prowess. They just had to feel.

The pace quickened not that there wasn’t anything stopping them. Theo made a noise as he started gnawing at Scott’s ear lobe It could have been an attempt at words; it could have been a promise or an apology or a reassurance or just the force of want pouring out of his mouth but Scott suddenly wanted to hear it again. He’d missed this. He’d missed being close to someone. Frantically rubbing against Theo, he knew he’d missed focusing the world down to one heartbeat that wasn’t his.

Scott’s claws left a thin cut down Theo’s chest. Blood dropped into the water and spread out. He didn’t do it on purpose, but he was close with their mutual thrusting and the urgency and for some reason it didn’t bother Theo. In fact, with the frenzied pulse in activity, Scott thought the chimera really, really liked it. He felts the prick claws of his own shoulder blades and then he understood.

They were monsters. They could tear each other part. They were close to tearing each other apart and it was wonderful. It was like skydiving on fire. Scott let his fangs emerge when he had been holding them back, and then he carefully, oh so carefully, took Theo by the throat. 

Theo came immediately. He shuddered at the touch of Scott’s maw against his skin. Scott could feel it paint his stomach and then wash away in the water. Scott drew his head back and took a breath of air, fill with steam and pine and the scent of the man atop of him.

Theo shifted slight and brought a hand, the claws receding as he moved it down and grabbed Scott so hard it almost hurt, pulling again and again. Theo kissed him roughly, lips on bleeding lips, and Scott let his arms fall open, repaying vulnerability with vulnerability. It didn’t take long at all until Scott felt the world clench white, the breath rush his body, and then his muscle relax, falling slack.

Theo slid off of him until they were lying side by side. They could see now the stars peek through the mist of the caldera and the branches of the enormous pine. The water was tinged red but it quickly faded. Everything was quiet. So were they.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank Demonzdust for all the encouragement. This chapter was tough to write.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All things have an ending, and all things have a beginning.

They lay together in Theo’s old bed in the laboratory’s living quarters. To Scott, the bed smelled a little of dust and faintly of chemicals but mostly of Theo. They hadn’t talked at all after they had gotten out of the hot springs; they’d dressed carefully and made their way back to Logashkino. The silence wasn’t due to regret; their time together hadn’t felt awkward at all. When they had climbed up the stairs to the ground, Scott had taken Theo’s hand to pull him up; he had squeezed it hard. Theo had squeezed it in return. 

They had cooked a small meal without speaking; there’d been no need to fill the silence with words. They had left out a light breakfast for the next morning and then packed everything else away. They’d leave at first light for the long, long trip back home. It would be good to get back to California.

When he finally became tired enough to sleep, Scott had followed Theo into the meager quarters. From the doorway, he had watched Theo undress and slip under the covers while steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes. Theo, for his part, had stared at Scott’s knees, unsure of what to do, even though it was clear what both wanted. Finally, the chimera had closed his eyes, had dropped his head back on the pillow, and had chuckled ruefully. Scott slid into the bed next to him, putting a hand on Theo’s chest and left it there. When he was this close to a person, Scott could easily hear their heartbeat, but he could feel it as well. 

Scott was close to drifting off to sleep when he realized that Theo was still staring at him. In the dark, he could only make out the shape of his face but it was unmistakably focused on his. Scott scooted closer to him so he could feel the heat of Theo’s body and Theo could feel his.

“Why?” Theo whispered into the darkness. 

“Because I wanted to.” The truth wasn’t going to hurt.

“Why …” Theo’s whisper dropped even low. “Why me?”

Scott bit his lip. “You’re going to probably want to punch me.” He pushed his eyes until they glowed and with that vision, he could reach out and touch Theo’s chin with the tips of his fingers. “Why wouldn’t I want you? You’re amazing.” 

Theo blushed. Scott could tell because the blood rushing to Theo’s face made it warmer than the rest of his body. 

“You have a perfect memory. You speak Russian. You understand things that I still have trouble with, and I’m a licensed veterinarian.” He ran a finger along Theo’s jaw. “You’re so smooth you should have a double-oh number. You’re a fucking super spy.”

“That’s not what I meant …” Theo protested.

“I dragged you into this, by ignoring what you wanted. You could have stamped your feet and bitched the entire way from Van Horn. But you didn’t. Not once.” Scott brought his face closer. “You’re beautiful. You’re amazing.”

Theo leaned forward and kissed him. “I don’t really understand …” Then he put a hand on Scott’s waist under the covers. “I didn’t understand back in Van Horn. How can you feel this way? I …”

Scott didn’t want to actually talk about it, but he owed Theo that much. “You tried to kill me.” 

“Technically,” Theo replied, “I did kill you.” It was gallows humor; it was self-loathing.

“I think this should make it pretty clear that I’m no longer holding it against you.” Scott offered him a smile. He wasn’t sure how good Theo’s vision was, so he put his face on the other man’s chest so he could tell he was smiling. 

“You should.” Theo pulled back. “It wasn’t just you. You know that. All the others … I helped … Tara, Josh, Tracy.” 

Scott gave Theo the space he wanted. “Yes, you did. You killed them.” He took a deep breath. “So, what comes next?”

Theo didn’t answer in the dark. 

“You know, for me, this all started with Peter’s killing spree. You know what all that revenge didn’t do? It didn’t bring back to life one single member of the Hale family. All it did was make Peter happy for maybe a minute before Derek ripped his throat out.” Scott said simply. “There’s nothing you can do to bring those three back … again.” 

“So … everything’s forgiven? Just like that?” Theo demanded. “I kill three people and help the Doctors kill six more and it no longer matters. I manipulated people …” He took a breath. 

Scott took Theo’s face in both hands. “That was fifteen years ago. You have to live with what you did for the rest of your life, but …“ Theo tried to pull away again, but Scott wouldn’t let him. “Do you want to go to prison? Do you want to crawl back to that hole you dug for yourself in Texas and wait to die? I won’t break my word. You can; I’ll let you.”

Theo took ahold of Scott’s wrists and pulled Scott’s hands away from his face. His eyes flashed yellow. “What choice do I have?”

“You can live. _We_ can live.” Scott was stronger than him, but he didn’t fight Theo. 

“I’m not going to save you, Scott.”

“You already have.” 

Theo let go of his hands in surprise. He was stunned by the admission.

“A long time ago, I made a choice. It was more of a promise to myself. An army of monsters stole my life. I never wanted this. Any of it. So I made a promise that I would never take someone’s life unless I had no other choice. Because while everyone’s life can’t be all good or all bad, I believed they have a right to choose what they want that life to be. I hoped that when people were given that choice, they’d choose … they’d choose to be good.” 

Scott took a deep breath. “What have you done over the last fifteen years? You’re a unique creature. You can shift into a full wolf. You’re smart. You’re clever. You’re one of the best talkers I’ve ever seen. You know all of the Doctors’ remaining secrets. You have access to their technology. You’ve proved that. So what did you do?” 

Theo waited in the dark until he was sure that Scott wanted him to answer. “Not much.”

“Not much. Exactly. You could have hatched a dozen revenge plans against me and my pack. You could have set yourself up as a crime lord, or an assassin, or a con man. You could have lurked around corners ready to rub it in my face that you’re free with fancy cars and old furniture and smarmy speeches about how naïve I am.”

“What?”

“Sorry. Got off track there.” Scott chuckled. “You didn’t. With your second chance, you helped my pack against people that would hurt it and you didn’t do a thousand evil things you could have done – things that you were perfectly capable of doing. You made my hope come true. You saved me.”

Theo kept silent. 

“I want you to live. I want you to come with me back to Beacon Hills. I want to be with you if I can, because I want to live, too. Because what you showed me is that I don’t have to wait until the next dark thing comes along, that I don’t have to give up my life completely, because … I was right. People can change if you let them.” Scott faltered. This was a little heavy, but it was a unique circumstance. They were in some villains’ secret lair under a ghost town at the top of the world. “Yeah, I know I’m dumping on you … it’s a lot.”

Theo remained silent for a few minutes, but Scott could be patient. Then Scott saw streaks running down Theo’s face, chill blue lines compared to the heat of his body. He wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry,” the chimera choked. “I’m being stupid.” 

“No. No you’re not. Let’s get some sleep. We’ve got a long way to go tomorrow.”

###### 

Scott watched his own reflection in the partition. On the other side of the glass, Corey and Theo lay on hospital beds as Alan and his doctor friend administered another round of the treatment they had created from the Siberian data. He couldn’t focus too much on the pair; the stabilization procedure induced a great deal of physical discomfort, one for which they could not be sedated. He wanted to go inside and take both of their pain away, but Alan had pointed out that the treatment would last for far longer than he could safely absorb it.

This was the third time in six days that pair had endured the torturous procedure. Afterwards, Theo would pretend that it hadn’t hurt that much, but Scott knew that was a lie. Mason had told him that Corey had been so wrung out by the first two treatments that he had sobbed for hours afterward. Scott would let Theo’s deception slide this time, but he’d watch more carefully. 

Alan took a moment to emerge from the clean room, pulling the mask off his face. One of the possible side effects of the treatment was the temporary suspension of the chimeras’ healing abilities, so they took every precaution they could. 

Mason was standing next to Scott. Both of them had been present for the first two treatments as well. The emissary vibrated like an over-taut string on a violin, so much that Scott had wanted to grab him to make him stop. The tensions was the only reason the human wasn’t inside the treatment room as well.

“I have good news.” Even after so many years, Alan still had the same calm, reassuring way of speaking. “Our examination shows that not only has the tissue degradation ceased, but the treatment is allowing their own natural healing abilities to repair the damage.” 

Mason let out a long sigh. His shoulders relaxed. “So …”

“They’re going to be fine. We’d like them to complete the full course we designed, just to be safe.” Alan offered a benign smile. “We’d also like to monitor them in the future for side effects.”

“They’re going to live?” Scott asked. He just wanted to be sure.

“Yes.” Alan nodded in reassurance. He looked Scott in the eye. “They’re not in danger anymore. I should go back in and help, but I wanted to let the both of you know as soon as we were sure.”

To Scott, it was like the lights in the room brightened by a few hundred watts each. The room was so filled with illumination that he had to close his eyes just for a moment. He let himself smile in relief. 

Scott felt the air stir beside him and, without even opening his eyes, he knew that Mason was about to hug him. He waited patiently, because Mason was feeling exactly what he was feeling. The human wrapped his arms about him and Scott did the same. The scent of happiness filled his nose. 

“You did it.” Mason’s voice was full of gratitude. 

“No,” Scott answered immediately, firmly. “ _We_ did it. Corey was brave enough to speak. You were strong for him. Alan cared. Derek and Chris and Stiles offered their aid without hesitation. We did it. All of us together. As we’ve always done things; as we always will.”

“Fine,” Mason smiled and released the hug. “We did it. Even Theo.”

“Yes. Even Theo.”

Mason turned back to watch the treatment continue. “Are you going to make him pack?”

“Yes.” Scott had made that decision before they had even gotten back to Beacon Hills. “If he wants to be pack, he’ll be pack.”

Mason had become a very good Emissary. “You know, some people aren’t going to like that.”

“They don’t have to like it. I’ll listen to every complaint they have, but in the end the choice is mine. I think I’ve earned that.” One of the hardest lessons that any leader had to learn is that there was no way to make everyone happy, no matter how big or how small the group was. Scott wanted Theo in the pack to make himself happy, and that wasn’t a bad thing.

They turned back to watch the treatment, but it wasn’t the same. Now that they knew that things were going to get better, it was harder to stand still and wait in silence. Scott guessed that it was something everyone experienced when loved ones were ill.

“So. Once the treatment’s done, do you think that Corey will take me up on my offer?” 

Mason shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s still a risk, but it’s the only way to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Before the treatment was a possibility, I think he would, but now …” The Emissary turned to look at Scott. “I’m going to suggest that he doesn’t need to.”

Scott smiled. “I don’t think he needs it either, but the choice is still his.” 

“Are you going to offer Theo the Bite?” 

“No. I can’t. I can make him pack, and I will, but that would be going too far.” Scott sighed. “It’s not just me and him. It’s all of us, and there are too many people who would be terrified by the idea of Theo being able to claim my power.”

Mason tilted his head. “But you think he’s changed.”

“I know he’s changed. I know it.” Scott shrugged. “But they don’t; they can’t. There’s not been enough time. Lydia won’t know. Liam won’t know. Stiles won’t know. By the time they figure it out, it’ll be too late. There’s going to be enough problems when they figure out that we’re … together. There’s a time to push for what I want and a time to accept that I can’t get everything. Giving him the Bite would tear the pack apart.” 

“That was going to be my advice,” Mason chuckled. “You beat me to it. But, here’s an idea. You know how Corey and I are going to adopt.”

“Yeah. That’s back on the table, right?”

“Right. We’ve decided we’re going to find an older child with special needs. Corey prefers to work at home, and I make enough to cover even unexpected medical expenses. We know it’s going to be rough. Love doesn’t automatically fix problems. It’s a risk without the guarantee of reward, but you know, you don’t love people because they’re a good investment.”

Scott thought about it. “No, you really don’t. That’s a good line.” 

“I thought so!” Mason exclaimed. “Feel free to use it.”

###### 

Stiles leant up against the wall of the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic’s back room, like he had leant up against it so many times before. “You do realize this is the point where I tell you that you are being a complete dumbass.”

“Yup.” Scott continued putting away the equipment from the surgery he had just completed. It was his last patient of the day. 

“So I’m going to assume that you’ve already gone over the myriad and nearly-endless objections I have to this.” Stiles grimaced aggressively. “You have, haven’t you?”

“Yup.” Scott shut the drawer. “I actually imagined this conversation.”

“You realize …” Stiles pointed at him. “I’m going to tell you why it’s a terrible idea anyway. I mean, in the long list of terrible ideas that you have indulged in since I’ve known you, this has to be in the top five terrible ideas. Maybe the top three.” 

Scott was surprised. He expected Stiles to come out with words far crueler than what he was saying.

“Of all the dick to chase after, you had to choose that dick.” Stiles shook his head. “It’s a shame Garrett Douglas was unavailable. Seriously, Scott? Seriously?” His best friend started to pace. “Theo Fucking Raeken. Liar. Murderer. Manipulator. That Theo Raeken. And don’t tell me it was a long time ago! I suspected you wanted to get in his pants back then, too!”

And there was Stiles back to his usual form. 

Scott put his hands on his hips. “You thought I wanted to sleep with him in high school?”

“I always knew you weren’t a zero on the Kinsey Scale. No one looked at Danny the way you looked at Danny and never thought of playing hide the salami with another guy. You also have to admit that you checked Theo’s ass out any number of times.” Stiles’ talked as if it was an open-and-shut case. “Why do you think I kept asking you if I was attractive to gay guys?”

“Because you have no brain-to-mouth filter.” 

Stiles threw up his hands. “I’ll have you know that I have a very excellent filter. I simply don’t use it that much. Not with you, anyway. I don’t think I should have to.”

“You don’t have to.” Scott replied. 

“That’s good.” Stiles took three steps toward him. “Couldn’t it be someone else? Anyone else. Someone who hasn’t tried to kill you? Someone who hasn’t tried to destroy us?” 

“No. He’s the one that I want.” Scott smiled at Stiles. “And exactly for those reasons.”

That brought Stiles up short. While he processed that statement, Scott left the back room and shut down the lobby. He flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed.’ It was nearly six, and the late autumn sun slanted through the glass. It was going to be cool tonight. 

When he reached the backroom, Stiles was still chewing over it. “I don’t get it.”

“I didn’t want to make this comparison, but … you loved Lydia for years. She ignored you, even spurned you. Yet, you wanted to make her yours, and you told her it was because you were the only person who saw the real her – the genius instead of the vapid socialite. You saw what she really was and you wanted that.” Scott grinned. “I see something in Theo.”

“Lydia hasn’t tried to rearrange my insides with her fingers,” Stiles shot back. “She may have wanted to, but she hasn’t done it yet. Couldn’t you lust after someone a little less murdery?”

“Not really.” Scott shrugged.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Go on.” It wasn’t a request.

“Unless it’s escaped your attention, I’ve been a werewolf for longer than I was a human. I don’t really remember what it’s _like_ to be human. I’m not going to meet some surfer at a coffee shop and bond over the killer waves at Malibu. That’s not what I’ve spent most of my life doing. I’d be pretending to be someone I’m not in order to not be alone. Call dating Theo unhealthy but at least it’s honest.”

Stiles face fell, almost imperceptibly.

“Stop it. I wasn’t complaining about not being human. You need to let it go.” Scott put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Even though I never wanted it, I like what I am. I like what I’ve done. Do I wish I could have had the life I dreamed about? Don’t we all?” 

“But Theo …” Stiles whined. “There’s others. Nolan would date you in a second. There’s Danny! He knows all about werewolves.” 

“I like what I’ve done.” Scott repeated. “I look at Theo and I see someone good who was once someone bad. There were so many ways that he could have torn at us over the years, but he didn’t. So when I look at him now, I find someone … worth it. All I’m asking is that you give us a chance.” 

Stiles stepped away, making Scott’s hand slide off. “I’m getting the strangest sense of déjà vu.” He wasn’t ready to say things aloud.

Scott said sadly, quietly. “Why can’t you trust anybody?”

Stiles turned away, leaving his back to Scott, and answer just as quietly. “Because you trust everybody.”

The silence stretched between them. This was a wound that had never fully healed, and, like so many other wounds, they had ignored it together, hoping it would go away. But this wound was deeper than others, because it wasn’t about who was right and who was wrong in a specific instance, but about how Scott saw the world and how Stiles saw the world. It was so deep it could poison the heart of what they had together. 

The dying sun had shifted and the light in the room had changed. Shadows crept from the tables and threw themselves off the floor. Soon, they would have to turn on the lights so they could see or talk in the dark. Scott forced himself to let Stiles take the time he wanted; he had the fight off the urge to change the subject, to avoid the conflict once again, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t be with Theo and be as close as he wanted to be with Stiles if Stiles objected so strenuously. He didn’t know what he would do.

“Fine,” Stiles turned around. “I reserve the right to give him as much shit as humanly possible. He wants all up on that, he’s going to have to put up with the Amazing Stilinski Wit, patent pending.”

“I think everybody has to put up with it.” The reply was light hearted, but Scott’s heart started beating again. 

“And that is doubly true for this coming summer.” Stiles offered a tiny smile. “Because he’s going to have to put up with the Terrible Little Miss Stilinski.” 

“You mean?”

“Yeah. Lydia doesn’t have to teach a class during the second summer session, so she’s bringing Claudia home for six weeks.” Stiles smile might dispelled the shadows by itself. “I’ve already put in for as much time off as I can get.” 

Scott stepped forward and wrapped him in a bear hug. “I can’t wait to see her.”

###### 

“Doggie!” Claudia Martin-Stilinski wrapped both arms around Theo’s neck. Exhibiting her father’s grace, her feet slipped out from under her so she hung from the wolf like a living weight. “Doggie! Doggie!”

Theo turned his snout to Scott, who was trying his very, very best not to laugh. If wolves were capable of human expressions, Theo would have expressed long-suffering embarrassment. Scott took it back; maybe wolves were capable of human expressions.

Scott shrugged good naturedly to the chimera wolf and then turned to look over the clearing of the Preserve. Everything for the night was set up and ready to go. The sun had vanished into the faraway ocean, and the stars were shining through the purple twilight. To the east, the moon was just rising. 

“Scott? Honey?” His mother called out from over near the cooking pits they had set up. Derek, Hayden, and his mother had placed themselves in charge of dinner. “You should get everyone presentable.” 

Scott raised his hand to acknowledge it and then turned to where Claudia was using Theo as a set of furry, mobile monkey bars. The other children watched her while Liam and Hayden’s youngest were learning to ‘shake hands’ with Malia. 

Lydia approached with a bundle of clothes under each arm. “Claudia, please stop. You don’t know where that thing has been.” Scott frowned, but he had had to promise Lydia that she could be as biting to Theo as he was letting Stiles. “Go find your father.”

A disappointed Claudia had no interest in doing that. “Doggie!” She pointed at Theo. 

“Yes, yes. Go find daddy. We have to go neuter the doggies.” Lydia replied. Scott sighed.

Before things could get out of hand, Stiles appeared with Liam. “All right kids! Dinner time! So you are all going to come with me and this teenager here and get cleaned up. Anyone gives me any lip gets sprayed with the hose.” The kids shrieked but started to follow them anyways as Stiles scooped his daughter up in his arms. 

“Stiles, four of these kids are mine.” Liam groused. 

“Babies having babies. It’s a national tragedy.” Stiles clucked his tongue. “Come on you menaces. Giddyap!” 

Lydia rolled her eyes in fondness when she thought no one was looking. She and Stiles had been carefully polite during the time she had been back in California, but sometimes they fell back into the easy camaraderie. It hadn’t the good times that had hurt them, after all. 

Scott offered her a smile as he took one of the bundles from her and followed Theo into the deeper woods. When Theo couldn’t see anyone, he transformed back into human form. “Why was I doing this again?”

“You volunteered.” Scott smiled at him. “For which I am very grateful.”

“I am _not_ a dog. And what did I volunteer for?” 

“We want to ease the pack’s children into how their families are different. It was my idea; I just remember how offended Kira was when she only found out about her mother being a 900-year old kitsune during junior year.” Scott handed him a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. “They’ve seen some of us transform before, and they’re going to see more tonight. I just wanted them to know that some of us can turn completely into animals.” 

“Derek didn’t have to do it. Maybe he would have loved to have been petted?” Theo pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Derek can cook. You burn water.” 

“I do not.” When his head appeared through the t-shirt, Theo was smiling. “I just don’t like cooking.” 

Scott stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss. “I know. Derek does. You’re going to love his ribs.” He helped him slide on his shorts, but gave Theo a quick pat on the ass. 

Theo sniffed. “I know. I can smell them from here.” The smile vanished. “Lydia …”

“You’ve been seeing me for eight months, but she’s been on the East Coast. Give her time.” Scott took his hand. “She’ll learn. And, like Stiles, she’ll probably never stop being … sarcastic towards you.”

“Wheeee.” Theo grumped.

They walked back towards the clearing where the entire pack had gathered. Theo listened to the conversations and the people running around. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“I am. When Derek first told me about his family tradition, I knew I wanted to pick it back up. It’s a good tradition.” Scott emerged into the clearing. “It reminds us what we are.”

Theo glanced down. 

“You should enjoy it as well. Theo. You belong here. With me.”

Scott and Theo joined Melissa and Chris on the blanket they had spread. His mom had set aside plates for both of them. Marie glanced at her food suspiciously; she was in a great mood, but she was a picky eater even on her good days. She did yank her plate away when Scott tried to playfully steal part of her meat. They had gotten closer after Theo had suggested he teach her how to play lacrosse. Now she wanted to join the middle school team when she started next year. 

Theo had gotten at least one shovel talk from his mom when they had first started dating and an angry desert tray over Christmas from Chris. He had taken it without complaint, just as he had promised Scott, and things had progressed to the level where small talk was possible. It wasn’t even awkward small talk; that had been saved for Rafael, who was clumsily lurking on the edge of the blanket as well. This was the first pack function his biological father had been to.

Speaking of newcomers, Scott glanced over to the blanket next to him, catching Alan’s eye. He sat with Mason and Corey and Marcus. Marcus was the teenager they had adopted this last spring. He was a freshman; he had been the victim of unspeakable abuse by his own blood. Mason and Corey had let him get involved with the pack at his own place, and while he was still shy and jumpy, he had taken to the pack’s secret quickly enough. He was fascinated by monsters who did care. 

On the other side, Noah was spoiling Claudia without restraint. He had the toddler on his lap and was letting her eat only what she wanted, much to her Daddy’s astounded irritation. Grandpa was ignoring all the huffing and pouting while Lydia barely kept herself from bursting into laughter. During the whole ordeal, Lydia and Stiles kept glancing at each other as if they thought no one could see them doing it. They could at least be friends again, it seemed. 

There was an explosion of giggles from the next blanket over. One of the Dunbar Mini-Pack had backed right into their father as he was trying to eat, dumping ribs, potato salad, and baked beans into his lap. Liam danced about trying to get the food off of him but not on their blanket as his children and Derek’s Vernon burst into open laughter. Hayden was chasing him with a towel and a twinkle in her eye. 

The place of honor was set up for the Hale family. It was their tradition after all. A conversation spanning three continents and three languages dominated as Malia and her French girlfriend were engaged in a get-to-know-each-other conversation with Cora and her Argentinian fiancé. Manuel was part of Cora’s pack from South America, while Amelie’ was a member of a secret Catholic society that studied the supernatural. Scott had spent some time talking to them, while Stiles had vetted them thoroughly. They were nice.

Peter was not there. Scott, after coming back from Russia, had finally put his foot down and banned him from pack functions if he couldn’t be respectful. Scott was a mature, adult alpha with a powerful pack and a strong reputation. He didn’t need to put up with Peter’s smarmy disrespect. Truth to be told, no one missed him. 

Derek and Braeden were too busy flanking Talia. She knew what was going to happen tonight, and it put pressure on her, but her parents were trying to give her support while reassuring that nothing could happen tonight and it wouldn’t make one bit of difference.

Finally, Derek stood up. He cleared his throat. He had never been the best public speaker, but he could make his voice reach. He caught Scott’s eye and Scott nodded encouragingly. “Tonight is the Buck Moon, the full moon of July. For as long as my family could remember, we gathered like this out in the forest to celebrate. We celebrated what makes us the same as everyone else and what makes us different from everyone else. Tonight we look for those who will carry on that tradition.” 

Rafael leaned over to ask Scott. “This is how they tell who’s going to be a werewolf?” 

Scott nodded. “There are other ways to tell but this has more … meaning.”

“I’d like the Alpha to come up now.” Derek caught his voice for a moment as if a memory had welled up and stopped him from speaking. He took a breath. “He will represent those who could not be here and honor those who are no longer with us.” 

Scott walked up easily between the people he had come to care about. He had talked this over with Derek beforehand. Grabbing a torch from its resting place, he lit it as he passed one of the cooking fires. 

There was a large boulder to the side of the clearing. It would serve as a platform tonight. On one side there were four tall candles for those who could not be there with them that night – one for Isaac, for Jackson, for Ethan, and for Kira. He lit each one, calling out their name. On the other side, he lit four more candles for those who could would never be with them again – one for Erica, one for Boyd, one for Aiden, and one for Allison. He called out their names as well. Then, in front of the boulder, he lit a bonfire for the Hale family. Derek and Cora spoke their names as the fire caught. 

Scott nodded to Derek after they were finished. Derek cleared his throat. “Would the wolves and those who might be wolves come up please?” 

Scott watched as Liam and Hayden approached; his mother moving to watch their kids. The children would one day participate but not yet. Malia, Cora, and Manuel stood up as well. While Cora and Manuel weren’t married in the eyes of the law, he was as good as in the eyes of the pack. Derek had to step forward and take Talia’s hand. They had started this up this year because of her. It was about her age when a born wolf would first start showing signs of the change.

Scott waited; it wasn’t long until he realized that Theo wasn’t joining. He gestured at him, and Theo shook his head. Leaving his place, he went to where Theo was sitting. 

“I’m not actually a wolf …” Theo protested.

“Neither is Malia. You’re _pack._ ” 

Theo opened his mouth to speak again.

Scott leaned his head down to whisper into Theo’s ear. “You're family, Theo. You’re my family, and you belong here. Come on.” Scott held out his hand and pulled him to his feet. The chimera swallowed out of fear but he came none-the-less. He led Theo to the base of the rock and left him there. No one paid Theo any mind, as all the wolf eyes were focused on Scott. 

Scott climbed up on the boulder. It wasn’t even, so he had to balance, but that was okay. He looked down at the eager faces of the wolves below him. He looked beyond to the rest of the pack, happy or with the potential to be happy, but all safe. He looked at his family – his fathers, his mother, his sister, and his brother. They were here with him. He looked down at Theo. So was he.

Transforming easily, Scott turned to the sky. He could see the eyes of his pack light up in response to his own. It took a moment before Theo’s did as well, taking his place in the pack. Drawing breath as deeply into his lung as he could, Scott howled. The pack’s howls harmonized with his own. Even he had to admit it was incredible, feeling the echoes shakes his very bones. He hoped it made everyone feel as good to hear it as he did to lead it.

Standing amid the other wolves, Talia’s eyes flickered bright yellow, like a struck match. The Hale line would continue. Scott felt better at that moment than he had felt since before he went into the woods so long ago. He could rest with all the people who loved him and he loved in return. 

Above them the moon sailed among the branches of the trees, full and bright.


End file.
